I was taking out our recyclables yesterday morning and found myself in a standoff with a giant squirrel (he/she was terrifying) who seemed to be eating… oh dear Lord, the kitchen trash we threw out the night before.
Fortunately for me and Al Gore and the rest of the planet, we do quite a bit of recycling and most of our food-food goes in the garbage disposal, but I still found myself in a deep panic. What the heck had I thrown out? And, if I let this disturbed squirrel win, would my trash be strewn about the parking lot for all to see?
Note: Letting the squirrel win would probably involve her/him staying on the dumpster and me participating in Bring Your Garbage and Recycling to Work Day.
I retraced my steps from the previous week. I do remember throwing out a four pack of expired yogurt. I know, I know. I should’ve eaten them before they expired, but once I discovered the quartet in the back of the fridge, eating them for the sake of eating them seemed wrong. And hazardous. I think I also pitched a few old socks. Sure, they could have been darned or used as rags, but I had trouble getting in touch with the Little Women, so um, in the trash they went. I also failed at growing a matchstick garden (or initially succeeded, but failed in keeping it alive) and threw out the entire pot, dirt and all. I know that was a no-no, but embarrassing? No, not really.
So cute! Until they die! [Photo: matchstickgardens.com]
I remember giving platelets a year or two ago—the Red Cross nurses in Dedham have a talent for keeping donors comfortably distracted—and somehow the topic of trash came up. One of the nurses warned the room to go home and clean under our beds. Why? Because you never know when you’re going to die (pretty morbid, especially when you have a needle in your arm and your strapped in to all kinds of machines) and you don’t want your legacy to be a whole bunch of junk.
The lesson is this: whether in the communal dumpster or under the proverbial bed, the stuff we pitch and the stuff we stash speaks volumes about our little lives. We never know who might be paying attention. Better clean up our acts!
While this week’s trash was probably not another (wo)man’s treasure (I didn’t throw out my Social Security number, or at least I don’t think I did) and I don’t recall anything particularly shaming being in there, I am thankful the dumpster was picked up shortly after I made a hissing noise and scared the squirrel away.
Also On Tap for Today:
- Adopt a pot, you know, to make up for the one I neglected and abandoned
- Buy a large bell to ring upon approach of the dumpster to ward off the Tony Soprano of squirrels
- Memorize these meals and avoid getting so hungry wondering what to make for dinner that dinner becomes a box of Cheez-Its (save that for dessert)
