Sharing is caring - EXCEPT FOR CAKE

We were in San Francisco a few years ago and were amazed at how organized their recycling system was. There were bins for glass, plastic, aluminum and compost on every street corner. I was terrified of accidentally throwing my stuff in the wrong one and being labeled an environmental terrorist, so I made sure to always read the signs carefully, look at what I was holding in my hand, and slowly ask myself before tossing, “Is it……

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.

 

This picture is nothing like the one I had with real cream in the middle and on top! Of course no photos exist because when not consuming the damn thing, I was busy trying to hide it amongst the various folds of my body.

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.