Tipping Point.


Today was one of those glorious days when you (I) go (went) to the tip.

It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for ages. For a long time I’ve had a lots of things stored in my outside cupboard that I needed to get rid of, to create space for me to get further into the cupboard so I can sort out more junk and take that to the tip too. Today only saw the first stage of this master plan, but it was still good to make a small dent on the reorganizing of my flat I'd like to do.

It was perfect going-to-the-tip weather, being suitably drizzly and overcast. We also weren’t the only people with the same destination on our minds, as the slow-moving queue into the recycling centre was testament to. More the one car in front decided to bail out instead of wait, which seemed silly really, as (1) we weren’t stuck there for very long, and (2) it’s counter-intuitive to load your car up rubbish to have to take it home again; rather them than me.

It was satisfying to throw stuff away. It may be sad, but I get a genuine kick out of recycling. There’s the sense you’re doing something right, plus it’s good to know most of what you’re disposing off should come to good use. It’s also fun to throw things over-enthusiastically into skip and hear them smash; I always knew I had a destructive streak.

When I got home, I opened the cupboard again to get to a couple of bin-bags full of Tetra Paks and other extraneous cardboard that until then had been inaccessible, so I could take them to the recycling bins on our estate (not a country-manor sense). It goes to show how long I’ve been meaning to have a clear-out that some of the cartons in there had best-before dates in 2012; you should never rush these things.

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