1. Honking. As in, repeated, loud, blaring, big-garbage-truck honking. This being San Francisco, our street is narrow-ish, and on a rather steep hill. Also, it curves slightly. For reasons unknown to me, it is legal to park on both sides of said curved, steep, narrow street, which often results in various vehicles not being able to make their way through. Or certain vehicles (ahem, our car) being sideswiped by various vehicles whose drivers *think* they can get through.
And so, the garbage truck this morning. At 6:40 am. There were a couple of smaller foreign cars parked on one side of the street, and a Mini on the other. The garbage truck had squeezed between the cars and then the driver found he couldn’t get by, which gives you a clue about the narrowness since Minis just aren’t that wide, and neither are Civics and Jettas. So there was a bunch of yelling and cussing, and then the driver just leaned on his horn — and didn’t let up. Unfortunately for him (and the rest of us who were trying to sleep) no one showed up to move any of said three small cars, and so the poor garbage folks had to back their truck very, very slowly up the 17 percent grade while taking care not to hit the offending cars.
The whole early morning drama has me feeling a bit cranky and discombobulated (man, there’s a word that always looks like it’s spelled wrong, huh?). Add to that: It’s not yet 9 am, and Howie (our precious dog!) has eaten half of my camera instruction book, a coaster, and part of a shoe. In addition to his breakfast.
On a not-really-related note, I always knew origami could be tasty.