I’m judging you.
More to the point—I’m judging your blue box. Frankly, it’s a blue (or red) window into your life.
I don’t mean to, but—honest—it’s impossible not to notice all those bottles of wine sticking out.
No disrespect, but no one believes that you’re drinking red wine just for the heart benefits. And, we all know those 35 water bottles scattered about are red herrings, meant to distract us.
Which is why I hide my gin bottle underneath everything. (Ha! Just kidding. It’s vodka!)
All kidding aside, I admit, I assess my own recycling containers for any potential social stigma before we place them at the road for all to see.
I have actually strategically shoved the Dove Ice Cream bar box down out of sight of prying eyes. And, if I leave the Fibre One box casually strewn on top, that wasn’t an accident…
Recycling is full of judgment.
Not only do people notice what you’re recycling, they notice if you properly separated your paper, glass and plastic.
I start off with good intentions of keeping these things in their proper boxes, but somehow, they cross pollinate and end up in a sort of recycling orgy—paper, glass and plastic sprawled sluttily across all three of our containers.
When it comes to judgment, deciding what you put out for garbage is almost as daunting.
Case in point: disposing of an old toilet.
It doesn’t matter how rich you are, how big your mansion, how gorgeous your landscaping.
You put that toilet out and you might as well be sitting on the front porch, a stick of straw in your teeth, a wringer washing machine next to you, as you pick out the theme from Deliverance on your banjo.
I think the only thing you’ll be judged worse for is not recycling at all. (Gasp!)
That means you don’t love our planet.
Clearly, you’re going to hell one day. (Seriously—not recycling is now a sin, according to the Vatican.)
When you get there, be prepared to separate plastic, glass and paper for all eternity.