Monday, October 29, 2007

One man's trash is another mans treasure. So who wants my treasure?

Every time I throw something away, I have to pause and think about way more many things than I should have to:

  • Would it be easier if I just ran down to the convenience store and threw it away there instead of it sitting in my house for about a month?
  • Should I bother waiting to recycle the light bulb, or should I take the lazy way out and smash it into a million glistening pieces with my frying pan?
  • Is this going to start rotting and attracting flies before the next Unburnables trash day comes along?
  • How in the hell am I supposed to take this apart and clean it?

I completely understand the need for an efficient trash system. With 127 million folk inhabiting a few islands the size of California, there isn't much room for landfills. But when I have to look at the same beer can for 23 days, I start to get pretty damned peeved.


So I have an idea. I'm going to start chucking all of my trash in this empty lot a couple blocks from my house. But of course I can't just throw it all in a bag and dump it; they'll open the bags and figure out who I am. So, in order to this, I should probably sort all of my paper from the rest of my trash; a good chunk of it has my name on it. After that, I need to take each piece of trash, wash it clean until my fingerprints are gone, and throw each piece away in separate bags so it'll be more difficult to piece together. So, in order to pull this off, I'm going to have to clean, sort, and organize all of my trash into separate bags.


Shit.


Nevermind.