Recycling

Confession tonight I threw most of my recycling in the regular garbage.  I am not proud. Quite the opposite and even the act of writing this blog is rooted in the vain hope of atoning for my sin.  I feel like I just outted the Easter Bunny. My roommate and I recycle or more accurately I, save for tonight, throw my recyclables into a series of bags she takes to the recycling center which I am told is in Monrovia.  We give the valuable items to our friend. 

The trouble area, and 100% of what I threw away tonight, is newspaper. Somewhat ironic in this era when newspapers are on the verge of collapse, my kitchen shelving unit was equally on the verge of collapse due to the weight of all of my newspapers.  Yes, I am one of the three people that still subscribe to the nearly defunct LA Times, but the wretched newspapers, who I regard with the disdain of a scorned lover, have no place to go but to become unsightly fodder in our terribly uncreative recycling scheme. I know most people have one of those green bins they can put all of their recycle items into that goes out with their non-recycling but because my landlord is one of the thriftiest people I have ever met; our complex is sans green bin.  Oh, how I wish we had a green bin. 

But what choice is to be made?  I have no garage to let the items be sorted properly; instead they bring such clutter to my already small with a capital (S) kitchen.  And tonight it got to the point I was so embarrassed and somewhat afraid they might be posing a fire hazard, I decided I couldn’t handle it anymore.  And so, I am sorry to admit despite saving them for months, I just single-handed ruined the environment by throwing away recyclable items.