A Comedy of Errors

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"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." -Morrow
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2005-05-23
we are living in a plastic world

15:14

I have a few serious pet peeves, and one of them centers around recycling. I don't know if it's innate, or my upbringing in hippie-loving, tree-hugging, granola-munching California, but it is almost physically impossible for me to throw away an aluminum can or plastic bottle or similar. I'll carry the thing around until I find a recycling bin. Of course, that was much easier in Cali than in Texas, but still.

I know that everyone is not this way, and, with superhuman effort, I manage to not pick recyclables out of trash bins when they're sitting so seductively on top. However, I do pick the plastic bottles out of the trash in my office, but they're my officemate's so I know where they come from. That may still be disgusting, but that's how I justify it. That, and the good karma points that I earn from picking them out...which I am still waiting to be redeemed!!! ;) I just can't not pick them out. If you love me, then you'll just have to accept that facet. I do wait until she's out of the office, however, so no-one sees me actually do it.

So, the whole point of this is that while I may be over-anal about recycling, and I know that not everyone is, it drives me absolutely batty when I see a garbage bin near a recycling bin and there are recyclables in the garbage bin!!! And it's not that it's confusing - the bins are VERY clearly marked. IT'S NOT TAKING YOU ANY MORE EFFORT TO RECYCLE. I mean, it's one thing to throw recyclables away if there's no other option, but when the bin is only another foot away, that's another thing entirely. HOW LAZY CAN YOU BE!? Aaarrrggghhh! Seriously!

And yes, I did pick the plastic bottle out of the garbage bin and drop it into the recycling bin. So there.

In other news, our mower may be able to chew up bricks and eat metal sheeting (why do we have metal sheeting in the backyard, I don't know, but the grass is high enough that who knows what all is out there), but one innocent little bark collar hiding unsuspectedly in the grass will stop it in its tracks. This I found out from personal experience yesterday. The result is a nice little racetrack path around the inside of the fence in the backyard to the spot where apparently the lost bark collar was. At least, I'm hoping it's the bark collar that caused the mower to make unnatural noises and refuse to start again, so that I only owe Becca a new bark collar (for Apache, not for her) and not a new mower.

I think Becca's willingness to overlook the bark collar incident (when I told her, she said I was funny) stems from the fact that she's just glad that the house is still standing after me being left alone with it for three days. I'm quite impressed myself.

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