Hater of Suburbia

I got so irritated by the oddest thing just now:
The city I live in has issued regulation trash cans. One for recycling, one for "green waste", one for regular trash.
They are awkward to drag about and I suspect the regular one is going to be inadequate while the green waste one will go virtually unused. The recycle one will mostly be filled with pizza boxes and soda cans.
As I was dragging them along to the back yard tonight, I began to curse the streetlamps and my dumb neighbor's extra bright backyard light that obscures my view of the stars. He leaves the damned thing on all night every night. Then someone's rodent-sized dog started yapping at me. barkbarkbarkbark
There were so many trees in this neighborhood, half of them are gone from windstorms and construction on the sidewalk, which I also despise.
The smell of them is gone too. I miss it. All I can smell is these shiny new obnoxious plastic garbage cans.
I get in these moods sometimes where I just find every trite aspect of my town to be incredibly annoying: from the water-wasting lawns to the droves of empty-eyed kids whose litter gets trapped in the bushes in my yard.
I liked this place much better than the city when I first moved here but the fields are disappearing and these housing complexes are popping up everywhere. They have walls around them like little feudal towns or something. They're fugly to say the least.
I'm always surprised at how specific my likes and dislikes get as I age. Am I going to be so filled with dislikes that I can't enjoy my life anymore?
The only thing that comforts me is that my town is right up against some federal wildlands. They won't be building there anytime soon.
Note to fellow hermits: live near federal lands and far away from freeways. This combination should grant you a few years peace.