Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Too much

I think I'm becoming a weirdo about recycling. The combination of L's locavore wisdom and scathing disdain for bottled water, plus the reams of paper that fly around my office on a daily basis, have pushed me over the edge.

Our printers at work (where I am at this moment, mind you, and there's a long time yet before I'm going home) are set so that the first page of every document is a paper identifying who printed the thing. So today I casually told my administrative assistant (!!) that if she wanted to set aside all those papers, I would be happy to bring them home to recycle, since there isn't really any recycling here at the office. She looked at me like I was crazy. I began to feel stupid, and all of my environmental righteousness leaked out of my body like toxic waste out of a drum barrel as I explained how I set aside all my recyclable, non-confidential papers to recycle at home. Is that weird?

At Chipotle tonight for my pathetic lonely dinner, which I squeezed in between billable minutes at some alien midtown Chipotle, I set aside the bottle I had purchased with my meal so they could recycle it. Then I saw another bottle lying on top of the garbage, so I plucked it out for recycling, too. Then I noticed a second bottle in the garbage, under some napkins that didn't look too dirty, so I pulled that one out. Then I saw a third bottle, just a little deeper, and I was going to reach in when I realized -- you need to leave. Do not root through the garbage at Chipotle. But that's not weird, right?


For questions contact me at said...

no not weird at all.. it drives me nuts that my parents don't recycle!! your admin asst wouldn't happen to be Leah Wilkins would it ?

Ashesh said...

I second this! I was surprised to find at Citi that we did not have bottle or aluminum can recycling. So, I used to keep a lined box in the back of my cubicle. And, every few weeks, when I was the last person to leave the office, I would trudge home with my garbage bag full of cans and bottles. The hobos in Tribeca would stand and applaud me enviously on my walk home.