Thursday, July 24, 2008

Garbage Gal

I spent the afternoon sorting through garbage. Now, I could do this at my own home, but this was volunteering at a championship swim meet. It's a long/short story about how I created this job for myself, but I did. 
So the sorting went something like opening the garbage cans and putting the recyclables in the recycle container. Then, I opened the recycle container, and put the non-recyclables into the garbage. I sorted here and there, but ended up at the back of the building, standing in front of the dumpster sorting through the bins, then dumping the garbage out in case I missed anything. I guess this sort of sorting is my way of being in control of the universe. I didn't cry about all the garbage being thrown away-the plastic forks and plates etc. 
All this to say, people cannot read. Granted, we are trained to put things in the "Trash" but I watched as people were drawn to throw their garbage away, but didn't pause to read the container. 
I only got a little gunk on me. Only where it was obvious, on the front of my shirt. I thought I'd wet it down and dry it with those high speed dryers they have at the pool. No, they don't have the high speed dryers anymore. So I walked around with a big splotch on my shirt, hoping no one thought that I'd got that splotch from digging through the garbage. 
I won't tell the long story about how I got the garbage job, but I have to say that Van's Cub Scout den is working on it's conservation patch this Summer, so I feel compelled to walk the talk. Van, however, was busy at the pool being buried up to his chest in sand while I was the garbage gal. 
Also, at home I have stacks of plastic under my sink, and in the laundry room that can be recycled, but don't go into our regular bin. Paul throws them away when I'm not looking. They are also floating around in my backyard. But to put them in their proper place,  I have to drive them across town to the Weyerhaeuser facility. I guess I could put them on my bike, but it's about six miles to the facility. I guess that trip would always be something to blog about. I can hear myself say, "Hey kids, you want to ride across town to take the recyclables to the dump?" I guess if I'd bribed them with Prince Pucklers that might help...
Right now I feel compelled to drive back over to the swim meet to make sure all the recycled water bottles have their lids off. I wish I were kidding. I guess this is one thing I get OCD about. Just don't come looking in my sock drawer, or Van's room, or the upstairs closet, or my closet or...

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