Here in Toronto, we are in the 31st day of a City employee strike. Normally, I wouldn't pay very much attention to a civil servant strike because I don't have kids in summer camp and I don't need any buiding permits. Unfortunately, under the umbrella of City workers are garbage collectors.
That means we're going into our 5th week without any garbage collection.
Things are getting a little desperate here at Love House. There's very little room left in our recycling bin, and there are some Tupperware containers in the fridge that are growing mould like it's a fridge in a high school biology classroom. We don't want to empty them because they'll just sit in the small compost bin outside, enticing the zombie raccoons to come feast.
Outside the realm of my house, the city is getting narsty. I think the zombie raccoons are breeding, if that's even possible. Litter is everywhere in the gutters. The first day of the strike, all City garbage cans were wrapped in saran wrap (no kidding) with signs that read, "Temporarily Out of Order. Please Don't Litter." Yeah. That lasted for about 10 minutes, which is when the first douche tore the wrap off and started filling the cans with garbage anyway. Some are not only filled up, but broken open and spilling over. Some business owners near my work have taken it upon themselves to seal over cans near their shops. It's usually cardboard boxes and lots of packing tape that does the trick, but it don't look so purdy.
The City has set up temporary dump sites, but those sites are simply selected City parks. Some have even filled up and have been closed, and now are shoulder-high football fields of black plastic bags, stinking to high hell and attracting frothing raccoon zombies*.
Happily, Toronto has been unusually cool for summer. It's rarely gotten hotter than 22 degrees, and it rains often. This is not cooking the garbage like it could, and how it did back in 2002, when the last City strike lasted only 16 days. (Unfortunately, the cool weather is also preventing my tomatoes from ripening.)
Also, the general litter in the streets distracted everyone else's eyes from the crumpled American $20 bill I found a couple of weeks ago. Rawk! I'm going to spend it recreating Ferris Bueller's Day Off when I go to Chicago for a friend's wedding in September. (I heard that you were feeling ill, headache, fever, and a 20 dollar bill...)
*Zombie racoon sightings would usually be investigated by City employees. I'm not taking any chances - it's zero hour, people.