Recycle This.

I get it- recycling is critical to ensuring we have a planet to stand on in the future. Well don't shoot the messenger when I say sometimes I don't separate. Yup. That's right.
Get a gander of this.

I had to blow this picture up. Figuratively not literally..though the former thought has not been far from my mind. While I was not reduced to rocking in a corner and bawling my eyes out this week, I'd be lying if I said that was a scenario that had not previously occurred. This is a recycling nightmare. Everything occurs on a different day, a different week...labels and caps need to be removed from PET bottles. Items must be in a clear or semi-clear plastic bag, not opaque ...and for God's sake don't put your metal cap lids in with the PET caps. See my problem? Nobody's got time for that.
Seeing as we are not in an apartment building per se, our pick up for recycling/trash is around the corner from our home.  The benefit to this? Our trash is combined with other designated apartments and it's hard to see where my trash starts and another person's ends. The downfall? The trash people totally know that the incorrectly sorted trash is mine.
*Deep Sigh*
Let me take you back in time to a Wednesday one month ago when I recycled bags of old clothes. By bags I mean BAGS. There was quite a lot to get rid of. So seeing as I had an old plastic comforter container to house nearly half of these clothes, I thought that would be two birds one stone. Yeah? Neah? MMM- Neah for days. I woke up early that morning- 5 AM and shook Will. Should I bring them now so they don't know it's me? If I go before dawn under the cover of darkness, would they still know it's me? He was not humored by my questions at such an early hour and frankly didn't care...which hurts my soul I must tell you. SO at 6, 2 1/2 hours early, I left with my bags. I'm pretty sure it began to rain...and then the bag broke. *Side Note* The comforter bag was there over one week. Clearly I had done it wrong....
*Deep Sigh*
I'm not alone in my angst. In speaking to other expats, they have shared that their trash has been ripped open in front of them, then adamantly told what goes where by drill sergeant building managers. They've gone secretly the night before to dispose of their trash when no one is looking and has been told to definitely not use transparent bags, because you will most certainly be judged.
My husband, in a moment of  pure raw genius, disclosed with me one night that when we were away over the summer he recycled the PET bottles in various recycling bins around town. Genius. I took this idea and totally ran with it. Now? I'm that strange woman on Wednesday nights with the huge "purse" and dark sunglasses moving from vending machine to vending machine where all of the recycling bins are, depositing my unwanted plastic. No de-labeling, no de-capping = Bliss.  Who'd have thought this is what my new idea of bliss would be? Life is so funny....and so the journey continues......