To filch a line from Rodney Dangerfield, "I get no respect."
There I was Saturday, at the end of a long day of filling yellow bags with litter. At one time I was cleaning up the most dangerous spot on the highway, dangerous because of buckling in the pavement. Things go flying when drivers hit those bumps without slowing. Lots of things to pick up there, so I was fairly tired while I was finishing up another site a couple miles farther away..
My bag was full and heavy. I was trying to reach my truck without tying off this bag and beginning another because I was only a hundred yards or so from my truck where water and a Mandarin orange waited to revive my energy.
Then, the litter gods intervened. This is what they threw in my path:
As if I needed more weight to carry.
I get no respect.