Aluminum - No
Glass - Nope
Plastic - Uh uh
Compost - The fuck is compost???”
They mean serious business up there and it made me uber
conscious of how non-eco conscious I was, even though one of my first and most favorite
jobs out of high school was at a college recycling center. Everything I learned prior to that came from
Ricky the Rambunctious Raindrop, circa 1982. Conserve water, kids.
So when we first moved into our new place a year and a half
ago, Nate bought a trashcan that we designated for recyclables. We’ve been pretty good about using it
except for the fact that I am a terrible, lazy sorter. I guess trying to sort
three different things (no compost, sorry) into the smallest recycling trashcan in the world is NOT SO SMART, but I
refuse to give up more space in the kitchen for things unrelated to baking.
Anyway, it takes a lot of time and long strings of mostly unintelligible curse
words to haul it all down to the recycling center, but we do it, and not only
are we doing our very small part to be nice to the Earth, I make enough money
for a few items off the dollar menu at McDonald’s. Everybody wins.
We’ve also started carpooling, which is an exercise in
patience and a true test of self-restraint. See - here’s the thing...Nate is really obsessed with
weird shit like getting to work on time and stopping for yellow lights. The
days we have to carpool usually consist of him pacing back and forth in that jittery, restless leg syndrome kind of way of his and me dramatically punching the air screaming,
“There. Is. Nothing. Wrong. With. Being. A. Few. Minutes. Late!!! Just don’t take
a break later to make up for the time!” (But really just take a break later
because we are not machines and they can’t expect us to sit there all day and
do boring stuff).
My tirade will continue until we hit our first yellow light
less than a quarter mile down the street and then it’s: “Oh. My. God!!! Why didn’t
you just go! The light’s not even red yet! Yellow means you can still kinda go! Now look,
we’re going to be LATE!” It’s a vicious
cycle of irrationality, but hey - we save money on gas, reduce our carbon
footprint, and keep our relationship fresh and exciting by constantly coming up
with new ideas on how to throw each other out of a moving vehicle.
I do appreciate his do-right attitude though. He keeps me in
check for most things. I’d be in a state of perpetual hibernation and
bankruptcy if not for his relentless habit of waking up and wanting to do a
bunch of stuff every day. And I really do appreciate him keeping us safe by
following all the traffic laws (as annoying as it is to stop at a yellow light
when there’s clearly enough time to make it through. Argh!!!).
Every day, I see how hard he tries at everything and it
makes me want to be a better person. I am a much needed work in progress. It’s
a harsh reality, but I own it. Last week I was watching a TV special on Grizzly
bears and they featured one who had been guarding the carcass of an elk for
three days. He’d just munch on it throughout the day then drape himself across
the body all casual-like to ensure no one else could have any. For 3 whole days!
Talk about going hard. I know how he feels because earlier this week I pretty much did the same
thing over a piece of devil dog cake (basically a big ass, bone-shaped ding-dong). Call me Gollum – Lord of the Dongs –actually, don’t call me that -
but that devil dog cake was truly precious to me. Nate didn’t stand a chance. I
know….terrible.
Like I said, work in progress. Sharing is caring...unless
it’s a big ass, bone-shaped ding dong.
So anyway, in a world where grocery bags are now being
outlawed and accidentally tossing a soda can into the wrong bin in front of a
Greenpeace petition person can earn you a mean mug, a shaken fist, and what
sounded like some kind of voodoo curse, it’s good that we’ve started examining ways
to be better Earthlings. And despite his crazy obsession with getting to the
office on time and furiously pumping the brakes at the first sign of a yellow
light, he really is a nice carpool buddy because he sometimes makes me a peanut butter
and jelly sandwich to eat on the way to work.
Now I feel guilty for all the times I said I would pick up
the car and throw it off the overpass……with him in it.
Sorry, dude.
