It's been a busy week, and I'm glad I've made an effort to stop for a quick lunch while I'm moving through each day. I function better if I've eaten something - no one needs a stager with low blood sugar. Can you imagine? Oh the horror.
I've come to realize that the act of disposing of your lunch remains at some restaurants can be a nerve-wracking task. I think the trend toward recycling has added new elements to "disposal" in general. I'm a recycler. I'm even making a concerted effort to do a better job of breaking down boxes so they lay flat in my recycling bin and also to rinse things out before I toss them on the pile. I get it. Recycling is good.
But now that recycling is becoming the norm, we don't just toss everything we have left over into one big trash can. Now we need to sort things: trash, compost, paper, plastic, silverware, plates, trays, etc. They all need to go in a specific place when we're done with our meal. I get a little anxious if there's a line behind me pressuring me to get my tray cleared quickly - you have to really think about where things go. I'll even wait at my table until it looks like the trash station is clearing out just so I can sort my paper and plastic in peace.
The worst place for this kind of sorting has to be Whole Foods. They started this trend I think, but they've also made it the most difficult. Whole Foods has their trash system broken into no less than five sections and each section comes with a handy framed example of what each particular piece of trash should look like for its associated disposal zone. But sometimes the examples they provide become outdated and don't match what the Prepared Foods department is using to serve food. I end up holding my empty container up to the framed examples and guessing to myself the chemical make-up what my Sonoma chicken salad came in. Is it recyclable? Would it dissolve on a compost pile? Maybe it's just plain old trash? I think it's made out of corn. Did my food taste like corn? Could I just eat the container? The stream of consciousness alone takes quite a while.
Sometimes I just cram my plastics and papers in my grocery bag and dispose of it all at home. It's easier and that way I can practice my speed sorting skills on my own. After a little private practice, the next time I dine at Whole Foods, I plan to amaze the other lunch-goers with my flawless execution of trash disposal. Little victories mean so much.
I'm wearing this.
I've had this vest for three years and could never find a way to work it into my rotation. I bought it at Anthropologie when I was feeling extra funky, then got it home and wondered what in the world I was going to do with a long, knit vest. I don't know why I didn't think about using it with a t-shirt and jeans. Duh.
gratitude: the smell of roast chicken, simplicity, lamps, yoga
thanks and love.