Trashed

I'm driving home between classes. Hydro is threatening to cut off our power. We have to prevent this from happening by seeing receptionists and talking to them.
I don't ask questions.
My name is on documentation, so I have to be there as well, with my brother. I feel unsettled when my name is on things.
No Paul Juniors in my future.
There is a very large truck in front of me, with a long flatbed. Those guys you see hauling around huge concrete sections of pipe? That sorta thing. It could be a swimming pool, but someone wished to move things with it instead. And it is too flat to hold water.
Anyway, there is a dumpster being moved on this truck. It is chained on.
I do not trust the integrity of said chain, and I speed around the truck as quickly as possible (beginning to sweat, driving faster than I should be on a turn).
Why?
Because.
Of the possible ways I might meet my fate, 'death-by-dumpster' is just a little too plausible for me to stay in the slow lane.