self portrait tuesday

Miguel, the guy that works in our warehouse asked me in Spanish and with much concern in his voice, "There's a bag of trash in your car?" My friend Kim also asked, "Why is there a big bag of trash in your car?" When The Lotto Club went out to lunch last week I said, "Can one of you drive because I have too much shit in my car."

A couple months ago, my apartment complex inexplicably got rid of the one recycle bin that they had stashed at the farthest end of the property. They all but camouflaged the bin with leaves and brush. It was the best kept secret in the complex, sending the message, "Sshh, we care." Before the bin disappeared, it was a big trek to the bin and when your home is just over 900 square feet, I understand the urge to just toss stuff in the trash. But recycling is probably the most basic of environmental responsibleness, so I wouldn't let my family trash my bags.

Then the one recycle bin disappeared, and it still hasn’t returned. I go to the management office every other week to ask about it and they either pass the buck or they say, "We're looking into that" which pretty much means, "Fuck off, Renter." I know they think I'll give up asking, but my strategy is to needle them to embarrassment and ultimately make them submit to a smidgen of environmental consciousness. Or at least do what I say just to get rid of me.

Until then, I carry my bags of recycling around in my car for sometimes days until I take the girls to the library where there is a recycle bin. Or when I drive by a particular complex where I know there's a bin. This is such a pain in the ass because my schedule is so tight, but I just can't bring myself to throw the stuff in the trash. The sight of me driving around with a big bag o' trash must look pretty silly though.

SPT's theme for April is Documenting Silly. Check out more aqui.