Comic Relief

Do you ever have a bad day - a really bad day - and then something which isn't supposed to be funny strikes you as funny and you can't stop giggling about it even though it's completely inappropriate (I suppose this is a good thing and relieves the stress of the bad day...)?

Today our Homeowner's Association emailed a memo with the following notes of concern:

1. Please note that the dustbins at the security room are not for your use.  (What is a "security room"?  I didn't know we had one, but I could use a security room as I'm feeling rather insecure today.)
2. Please also do not make use of your neighbour's dustbin.  (I'm detecting a theme, here...)
3. Contact the Council to replace the bin at your house if it is broken.  (There is a Dustbin Council? Wow!  I feel like I'm living in a Star Wars movie... or maybe a secret spy movie... "Your time has come to appear before the Council of the Dustbin and plead your case.")

I did not know there was such a brouhaha about dustbins around here.  The only problem I have with dustbins is that mine disappears every time the garbage service comes (if they come), forcing me to play Hide-and-Seek when I come home from work (a game which I will gladly play with my children, but not-so-gladly play with my dustbin...).

I think I should report them to... The Council (cue eerie music and maniacal laughter).