As most of you may be aware, I am a closeted hippie. I don't wear tie dye, or hemp, or listen to The Grateful Dead. I do buy recycled water bottle purses and I am borderline psychotic about recycling.
Our recycling program is completely lame out here. I can only recycle category 1 and 2 plastics. This fact alone drives me batty. I have to throw away whole piles of plastic! I cry a little inside when I relegate a category 5 plastic to it's circular bin of death.
Anyway, the recycling has made a huge dent in our trash bin. It's barely half full by the time the garbage truck comes around, which is twice weekly. If it didn't smell so bad (ewww, diapers!) I would say we could cut the garbage runs down to once a week!
The recycling truck, however comes a measly every other Friday. Recycling builds up in my garage. The pitiful containers they provide are too small. And I went out and bought more containers- but they get stolen every time- along with all the soda cans. Someone in my neighborhood literally goes through my recycling, takes out all the aluminum to sell back at 5 cents a piece and then, unable to carry such a large load, runs off with my bin- his new bin... of cans. Infuriating.
But alas, this is not what is currently driving me crazy. Last recycling pick up, I was deathly ill and having a bad day. I forgot to take the recycling to the curb. It has now been three weeks since our last pickup, and I've got a whole week more to go. The recycling has completely taken over the garage. Do you know what sound a milk jug makes when you run over it with your car? I do. And I thought my transmission exploded. Scared me to death.
I trip over the cardboard boxes I've assigned for emergency recycling holding. I trip over these every time I'm loading the kids into the car.
The husband suggests that I just throw all of it away! I simply cannot do it. What a terrible and horrible waste it would be.
... and I've been stubbing my toe on this crap for three weeks. It is going in that recycling truck... oh yes.