One of the things I was bracing myself for when I moved back to Japan last year was its notoriously fascist garbage collection system.
(click to enlarge)
The thing is, you can get used to anything. After a while, I didn't even have to look at my calender to know if it was Monday (combustibles) or the second Tuesday of the month (plastic bottles). I got really good at washing, cutting, and drying the milk and juice cartons quickly. I think they'd even reduced the number of categories in the last few years, so it was slightly easier than the last time I had been so traumatized and overwhelmed by its complexity. Eventually, I even moved into an apartment that had its own garbage room so I didn't have to deal with this 8:00 business . . . before that, I'd often wake to the sound of the garbage truck leaving, and think to myself, "Crap. I guess I'll have to live with my stinky garbage for another 3 days."
Anyway. I could probably go on forever, but homework's a-callin'.
Oh, also. This is unrelated to garbage, but ain't it the truth: Printers Were Sent from Hell to Make Us Miserable.