Throwing Things Out Versus Saving Things

It's the day before the night before trash day; and as I do every few weeks, I'm going back and forth with trying to decide what ought to be thrown out and what can be left for another few days (until it crosses over the border between "debatable" and "not-at-all-debatable", at which time I won't be quite so torn about whether or not to throw it out).

I'm No Pack-Rat, So What's My Problem?

First let me say that I'm not a hoarder, a pack-rat, or even someone who makes a habit of permanently saving things that will never be used again (not quite pack-rats and maybe more appropriately called, "savers"). We've all heard about hoarders, those people who want to save their old pizza boxes and shoes with holes in them) and who will cry if they're required to throw them away. Hoarding is a mental condition, so I'm eliminating hoarding from this discussion.

We all know pack-rats, though. They'll throw away things like old pizza boxes and shoes with holes in them (most of the time). They're more the type to save used gift-wrapping paper "in case they ever need to wrap a gift small enough that the rips and wrinkles don't matter", and they're sometimes the type who save the empty tube around which even new wrapping paper was once wrapped. There are so many things pack-rats will save, there's no way I can address them all here. The point is, I'm not a pack rat. As far as savers go, I'm not generally a saver; although I'm sentimental enough to save some things that other people wouldn't think twice about throwing out. So, while I don't have a clue about what goes on in the minds of hoarders or pack-rats, I think I kind of at least understand SOME of the thinking of a savers. The thing with savers, though, is some of them don't know where to draw the line on things like movie tickets from a first date with person one eventually married and movie tickets from last Wednesday's night out with two co-workers. Still, on the scale-of-savers, my saving-stuff habits probably fall somewhere around average or even a little under average. No - when it comes to throwing things out I'm generally the tough, efficient, type who thinks nothing that doesn't have to linger ought to linger. Save it if you must, but put it in some out-of-the-way, designated, place for stuff that has some value (even if only sentimental).

Normally, for about three out of four trash-weeks I'm completely in keeping with my ordinarily tough, efficient, approach to junk, crap, trash - whatever word you use to describe stuff that has no right to exist in one's domicile. Each day of my life includes the efficient moving in and moving out of stuff like packaging, containers, and whatever else there is that had a use yesterday, but not today. There's a place for every kind of recycling I have to save for two weeks until it's picked up. No trash containers in my home are allowed to be left looking disturbingly in need of dumping. Some trash isn't as simple as what I've implied, though; so all through any given week I'll be making mental notes of what will need to go the following trash day, and on the day before the night before trash day, I'll scan for anything I've missed or anything that's showed up since the mental-note taking began earlier in the week. So, I'm tough when it comes to trash. Still, every three or four trash-weeks I find myself hating myself for even spending a half a minute stewing over some "debatable" thing, most often in the refrigerator but sometimes in the form of something like a box or a broken item.

Today happens to be one of those days-before-the-night before when I don't just have a few things about which I need to make the throw-it-out decision, but, for some reason, a whole lot of things. Here's what I should do and what I know I should do: Stop thinking about any of it, and throw it the hell out. It's that simple, and I know that. So what's my problem? Well, one problem is (fortunately) that most trash-weeks don't bring any dilemma at all, because most weeks what's trash is pretty clear-cut and pretty easily and efficiently processed. Every so often, though, there is one of those weeks when a whole lot of stewing and wheel-spinning is going on over whether or not to throw something out To make it worse, I add pressure to the situation by knowing that if I make a bad judgment about something that ought to go, I'll end up living with trash and/or garbage for a whole extra week. There's nothing like the hour-after-the-hour (when the trash-collectors have just gone through the neighborhood, especially on recycling-pick-up week). Despiser of trash that I am, there's just something great about that hour-after-the hour.

Now, I know this is going to come across like "positive spin", but I've realized that one reason that bothersome kind of trash-week occurs about once a month is that I am, in many ways, weighed down by all the rules about things like virtue and caring that my parents apparenty managed to drum into my head "but good". So many of us have grown up hearing about what a sin it is to waste anything, the value of the dollar, and the meaning behind a gift people (who so often "work hard for their money") have given us. Those of us fortunate enough to be close to our family often feel particularly attached to something someone we love gave us ("Oh, that sentimental attachment is a killer.") Some of us have been thinking about things like recycling and saving the planet long before it became a "bandwagon" . So, yes, in all our virtue, caring, and rule-following; some of us have a few things to overcome when the times comes to decide whether or not to throw out that open bottle of vinaigrette dressing at the back of the refregator. (After all, it doesn't have mayonnaise in it or anything like that.) On top of all that virtue and caring there is our tendency to do want the "wise" and sensible thing. We've all learned that we should keep things like the original packaging on items like electronic or electrical items, in case we need to return them. Some of us don't seem to notice when it's either no longer sensible to keep original packaging, or else some of us have trouble with just not caring any more how sensible it may be to keep original packaging.

Getting Tough

Earlier today I had to step outside my virtuous, caring, and sensible self and just get tough over what an idiot I can be sometimes. I have to call upon the "evil, un-virtuous, uncaring, and un-sensible" self to tell my "better" self to knock off the foolishness. If you're like me on even the occasional trash-week, maybe you could tell yourself this kind of thing too:

Hey, Self. Knock it off!! Why are you spinning your wheels over stuff you know is trash? Why have this stuff, minor as it is, eat away at you while you ponder (sometimes for days) whether or not something ought to go?

The Elephant in the Room (Well, Actually, the Coffee-Maker in the Dining Room)

First, let's discuss the elephant in the room - the broken coffee-maker your son gave you three Christmases ago, that has served you well for more than three years, but that has been sitting there, broken for over three weeks (and has been replaced by one exactly like it in order that you be able to pretend, in your sentimental mind, it's still the same machine your son gave you).

I have to hand it to you, Self. You paid more for the replacement than you would have preferred to pay, just to be able to pretend (again, in your mind - not to anyone else) it was the same, beloved, machine. I also have to hand it to you, Self - that way you continued to use the old filter basket and carafe (complete with those stains) as way of making you feel yet less separated from the machine that was once your Christmas gift. I don't blame you, Self, for being sentimentally attached to things your kids give you. That's normal. What's bizarre is the way (even though you know better) you've been kind of hoping that by some kind of magic the coffee-maker might heal itself or be discovered to have some minor problem with it.

Here's the cold, hard, facts, Self: You used the coffee-maker to death over the last few years. It wore out. Here's how you know: It stopped making coffee, and the hot plate stopped getting above room temperature. Yes, the power light was on. No, the delay button was not "somehow stuck on". Self, maybe it was sensible of you to hold off throwing out the machine too soon after replacing it. After all, once in awhile some little problem happens that can be fixed by a minor adjustment. You always knew you wouldn't want to pay to have the machine fixed (if it could be fixed), and you always kind of really knew that not making coffee, combined with no heating of the hot plate, is a very bad sign indeed.

Still, Self, you left your broken-but-beloved (if stained) coffee-maker sitting there and waiting for something, but what did you think would happen? Magic? Self, I'll give you credit for the way you don't just see things as disposable, and the way you're always willing to make sure you're not throwing away something that shouldn't be; and I'll give you credit for those three times you brought out the coffee-maker again and tried to see if it might work (presumably because of that magic you were hoping might happen, I guess). That most recent theory that coffee may have been gunked up in back of the "on" button was an interesting one, wasn't it, Self? In the meantime, you've lived feeling bad every time you see the burned out coffee-maker and think about how bad you feel to have to throw it away.

So, Self. Get real for goodness sake! Close your eyes, pick up that broken coffee-maker, and place it ever-so lovingly in the trash (in a way that makes you feel as if you're "laying it to rest", rather than "junking it"). Psychological tricks are a wonderful thing, Self, so throw away the machine you've gotten more than three good years of over-use out of it, decide to pretend the new, identical twin, replacement is the same one, and be happy the stains have magically disappeared from the trusty machine your son gave you.

Now, Self - about the "original packaging" from that new coffee-maker: No, Self, you have no use for the box. Yes, it is a fine box; but we both know you're not really going to follow through on that fleeting thought that covering the box with fabric could turn it into a good storage box. First, Self, you aren't the Martha Stewart type. Second, you need to store things in air-tight containers because you have that water-in-the-basement issue. Self, by Wednesday morning the old coffee maker will have, as they say, "left the building". The new one has been on the kitchen counter since it replaced the broken one. Unfortunately, Self, there will be no need to "save the old, sentimentally-valued, coffee-maker as a back-up". So, Self, use that trick you do to avoid cutting the box into flattened panels and tying it up for recycling; and turn it into a spare recycling container that you won't need to go out and bring back in once the recycling truck has come around.

By the way, Self - go get those five empty toilet-tissue rolls that you saved just in case anything happened to the first fifteen your daughter needed for that project at the preschool where she worked until three weeks ago. 1. Nothing apparently happened to the first fifteen. 2. Your daughter's work at that school ended three weeks ago. It was darned thoughtful, if against your grain, for you to save them this long. Now, it's just ridiculous.

A Regular and Big Source of Dilemma - The Refrigator

Self, I'd like to commend you on your efficiency and excellence when it comes to getting rid of some questionable items, like mayonnaise or creamy salad dressings. You need work, though, on things that are packed in vinegar and that you tend to think last forever (while, at the same time, you know you won't eat some things after a certain amount of time has passed).

Here's the thing. You know those two open jars of pickles probably won't kill you, but you just don't feel like eating something that's been open for that long. The same is true for the mustard, the dill relish, and any of those other things that aren't getting any younger as you keep not throwing them away (as if you're ever going to feel better about them at some point).

The same is true for fresh fruits. Self, you didn't eat that tomato two days ago because you weren't sure how many days it had been in there. Yes, it seemed like a waste to throw out something that may have still been good, but you weren't going to eat, were you? Is there some reason you think you'll be going back for that tomato in the future? Stop lying to yourself. Throw it out.

Dairy products you bought awhile ago that haven't reached their expiration dates. Self, here's the thing about dairy products and un-expired expiration dates: If you bought them last week chances are they're pretty close to going bad, no matter how far away that expiration date is. This is something you've discovered many times in the past, and it's the thing that made you not use that yogurt a few days ago. Once again, you didn't want to throw away something with a good expiration date; but once again, you knew there was no way in hell you'd ever feel any better about that yogurt (or cream-cheese or milk or whatever it is).

Self, you know if you're not sure about a dairy product you aren't about to taste it to see, so just get real, forget about waste, and throw this questionable stuff out.

How about that half-bag of coffee in the back of the refrigerator, Self? How long has that been in there, and why did you put it in there in the first place? You know, and I know (since we, Self, are the same person) that you put that coffee in there because you didn't like it. It didn't seem fresh. You went out and bought yourself a new can of coffee (different brand) but didn't want to waste the stale-tasting coffee. After all, stale-tasting coffee is better than no coffee. Self, you told yourself you may go back and try to use what was left of that bad-tasting bag. You just had to be in the mood NOT to have a fresh-tasting cup of coffee. One of these days one of those cups of coffee wouldn't be as important as some others, so you'd go back and use up the stale coffee one of these days.

Self, who were you kidding? Who on Earth (other than someone with no coffee at all and no hopes of getting new coffee somewhere) is ever going to opt for the stale-tasting coffee over the fresh-tasting coffee? Self - when, exactly, did you stop caring about what your coffee tastes like? Never? Well, then, throw out that half-pound of rotten-tasting coffee. Like everything else in that refrigerator, it isn't getting any newer or fresher.

Then there's the stuff that has an expiration date that's too hard to read or see without glasses or without putting it under the light of the range hood. Self, how big of a deal is it to take out that jar or Mandarin oranges, put on your glasses, hold it under the range hood, and determine if it's good or not? Why on Earth are you will to leave a jar of orange slices, a fruitcup, or a bottle of flavored water in there - unused, un-thrown-away, and a minor task always hanging over your head? Good Lord, Self! Figure out whether that lime juice is any good or not and do what needs to be done! Or - how about this, Self: You KNOW the lime juice has been in there for ages. You know you don't really care if it has another three weeks before the expiration date runs out. You will never, ever, feel good about that lime juice, so THROW IT OUT and don't even worry about whether it's got another few weeks left.

And how about that square cheese bread you got from the bakery, thinking it might be good to have with olive oil? Self, you didn't really love that first piece you tried. You may have meant well when you decided to freeze it "in case you're desperate some time". You know you hate bread that's been frozen, and none of those people on whom you tried to pass off that bread were takers. So, here's the thing, Self: You didn't like the bread fresh (and it wasn't all that fresh in the first place). You aren't going to like it frozen. Yes, it seems like a waste to throw away that big bag of square, weird, cheese, breads; but why let it take up space in your freezer for another couple of weeks, until you don't feel so bad throwing it away? Throw it out now. Waste it! Trust me - it won't be a sin to waste this stuff.

Besides, Self, stop pretending that it's less desirable to throw out that fruit about which you're not all that sure than to wait until horrible things happen to it.

The End of Another One of Those Trash Weeks - Free At Last (At Least Until Next Time)

And so, as I make peace with my evil, wasteful, cold-hearted, un-caring, and un-sensible self; I will sleep without concerns about trash tonight, happy in the knowledge that it's all set to be wheeled out to curb, no longer to languish somewhere between "good" and "no good", making me feel guilty or "kind of bad" about one thing or another and spinning-my-wheels until the inevitable eventually happens.