Bag Lady

The Environmental Protection Agency and Green Peace didn't think about me when they came up with their plans to save the planet. I am an environmental menace to society. Ah, sure, I eat green and organic but I too have my flaws. One can not blame me; it's somewhat of an occupational hazard that lays way to my earth UNfriendly behaviours.

Monday morning, still half asleep I pulled my excessively heavy and, no doubt, shit filled garbage cans to the curb for the friendly garbage man to pick and chose what it is he is willing to accept this week. I wish he would be more consistent. I'm starting to wonder if there is, in fact, any method at all to his madness. Last week my old crockpot was garbage worthy but the week before he apparently thought it had enough life left in it for a few more uses and conveniently left it on my curb alongside my empty can. He's a complex guy, that garbage man.

I tell you about my Monday morning garbage adventures because on Tuesday evening I found myself in the garage frantically searching for the red handled screw driver that always seems to grow legs and wander off when I noticed the copious amounts of Wal-mart, Metro and No Frills bags littering my garage floor. Now even if I had managed to visually miss the existence of those bags I dare say my nose would have alarmed me to their presence. Yes, there in those bags sat the remnants of some daycare child's butt. It was then that I realized I had a problem.

I have turned into a bag lady. I'm all for saving the planet and make our world a cleaner place but I will admit to a huge sigh of disappointment and slight panic at the announcement that a municipality in B.C. would no longer support plastic bag usage. I knew a little about waves of popular culture and immediately understood that very soon that wave would bowl me over like a newbie surfer on the ocean crests. You see, those thin plastic membranes used to hold groceries are my best friend. Where else was I going to contain ten pounds of poop and pee filled diapers each and every week? And let's face it - there is a need to encapsulate some of those diaper. The stench itself could create an environmental emergency of its own. I often wonder if astronauts ever look down and see a cloud of thick methane gas over my property.

My bag lady attributes come out every once in a while. There is a reason I love the self-serve check out at Wal-mart. Apart from the fact I get to self scan (and hey, let's face it. It's kind of fun to pretend to be a paid, full benefits, no responsibilities Wal-mart employee sometimes) I know going in that I can ensure a maximum number of bags to purchased items. Yes, I go into Wal-mart with a plan to cabbage poop bags. Pathetic.

Last week while Christmas shopping with my husband I found myself scolding him for shoving as many items as possible into one bag. What was he thinking? Was he blind? Could he not see all those poop bags sitting on the garage floor? Geesh, move over buddy and let me do the bagging.

But my ultimate horror came when my friendly neighbourhood grocery store decided to help it's bottom line under the guise of being environmentally conscious and they too started charging for bags. This was not good. Now I had to start paying for poop bags? I wondered quickly; if I got a receipt could I claim them on my taxes? I don't know about you but I go through a lot of poop bags and at five cents a piece that can ad up pretty quickly. But I'm not sure Canada Revenue Agency would understand.

Oh well, what's a provider to do? I guess I could just start tossing them all into the big old bin 'sans' plastic bag. Imagine the look on the garbage man's face then! I bet he would be much more inclined to take my crock pot though.

For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca