Thursday, March 3, 2011
As it turns out, my juice-box couple were actually just hiding in my garbage drawer. I might have put them in there myself, in fact I definitely did, because I keep that drawer locked lest my co-workers see what's in the drawer and think I'm more insane than they already do. Allow me to explain.
My office doesn't recycle. I mean a system by which one could recycle simply does not exist. As a decent human being I find this repulsive and uncomfortable andI am physically incapable of putting perfectly good recyclable paper into the garbage can. I used to work at an office where I convinced a conservative politician to put scrap paper back into the printer so we could use the other side. I belonged to a compost club at university (it was really less of a club and more of smelly people carrying their rotting food garbage to school in buckets). I really can't throw out paper.
My solution was to save all my recyclables and take them home and put them into my own recycling bag. I don't actually mean my own, becuase my school didn't get one for me, so I steal my neighbour's from time to time. Anyway, the problem here is twofold: first I'm both lazy and forgetful so I have a drawer in my desk that's full to the brim with recyclables, aka garbage. Secondly, the drawer was actually intended for my purse so I could lock it away safely from the children's sticky fingers, but apparently I think used paper is more important than my wallet.
I work in an office with three other people. I assume they catch me from time to time shoving fistfuls of paper into the drawer, and I imagine I must look like a crazy badger to them. It's even worse when I have to empty the drawer and shove all the paper into a reuseable bag and then carry it out the door with me. "Why is the foreigner hoarding garbage?" "It is probably to cure her aids."