167th day sober. Last night I rounded up a lot of trash and since the machine shop's trash was full and the welding place's trash can half empty, I stuck it in the latter. In the wee hours the truck came around and emptied the machine shop's dumpster but apparently the crew who empty the welding place's trash is taken in the strike seriously because they never showed up. So at dawn I took most of the stuff I'd put in, back out again and put it in the trash enclosure, since the welding guys will have to get by for the next week on the half-can of room they have.
I'm not sure how many people are striking. It seems quiet but that might be attributable to it just being a Friday.
I'd been up into dawn listing some Ebay things, then finished reading Slaughterhouse-Five. It seems a simple book but Vonnegut put a lot into it. His guts, you might say. I used to read such books in an afternoon, but instead it took me about a week to get through it this time. This is because computers are making everyone stupider, including myself.
Once it was late enough and what workers had shown up had left for the night, I checked out the machine shop's dumpster, which had been emptied but already had trash put in. I took the trash I had stashed in "my" trash enclosure and put it in there, along with neatening things up in there and cutting up the boxes I was disposing of instead of just dumping them in. I figure if I do my bit for neatness, it won't matter if people can see me on whatever cameras they might have set up.
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