Also, I have a Conviction that LOST is the greatest TV show ever. Yes, better than The Office or Arrested Development or even The Hills. Again, I'm not going to be able to explain this belief in such a way that you will be convinced...I just know in my heart of hearts that LOST really is the best show ever.
So, you get the idea about convictions, right? You just believe them and would feel like a soul-liar if you acted to the contrary.
Well, another one of my Convictions is recycling. Brandon doesn't buy that it is important and always brings up a few annoying facts that I don't really know how to dispute...and to be honest, since recycling is a Conviction and I know I'm right, I no longer argue the issue. We just recycle and that's how it goes. Plus Brandon knows I'll fish the cereal box out of the garbage and he takes pity on me.
Unfortunately, our apartment complex doesn't have city recycling so this means that I have to do it all by myself. And I promise, I'm not writing this so I sound all noble and like I am the Green Queen...I'm not. I have never seen An Inconvenient Truth and I pretty much hate Whole Foods.
I am writing about this because even though I have a really strong Recycling Conviction, I am really bad at it. Here is my case in point:
Even when I get all industrious and take it out to my car, I still have to find a place to drop it off. Usually I just sneak it into someone else's recycling bin in some alley way, but I get nervous about being caught. I hope that if I ever do get caught, I'll be praised for going through such great lengths to recyle, but people can be lame like that. Plus, let's be honest. I'm always in a hurry to be somewhere and forget about stuff that isn't pressing pretty much as soon as possible.
What actually ends up happening is that I let the pile grow until it essentially spreads across our whole existence and then I take it down to my car and drive around for about two weeks with a trunk of newspaper and salsa containers until I spot a place that will safely get my recyclables to the Magic Place that makes sour cream containers and diet coke twelve packs into something pretty, preferably ponies with pink bows.
Poor Brandon just puts up with it. He has never said anything except this one ever-so-gentle comment like "Maybe we should just always keep the recyling on the balcony?" And while that was a great idea and we might just do that in the future, the pile was too massive at the time to want to move it to the balcony. And so it sat, accumlating more and more jelly jars and bean cans. In fact, that is where we are at this very moment. Except that picture was taken a few weeks so that pile has grown substantially (I did take *one* load down to my car).
One day we'll move into a real house and I'll have that purple bin with the lovely arrows on it to put my objects that need to go to the Magic Place and I'll be able to live my Convictions with grace and cleanliness. You just wait. In the mean time, pat Brandon on the back and tell him that he does a great job putting up with his wife's Convictions. And then maybe give him something with ground beef in it for dinner.