Recycled Angst

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t learned about recycled trash and toxins and pesticides and global warming. It would be damned easier to keep my head in the sand.

So I was cleaning the bathroom the other day, wondering to myself how three children can make one room smell like a subway station urinal in a matter of hours, when I spied the empty toilet paper roll on the counter.

Of course, not one of my children had thought to put out more toilet paper—that would be far too much effort—nor had he or she endeavored to toss the roll into the trash can.

But as I picked it up to throw away, I stopped myself—wondering, as I do a hundred times a day, if it can be recycled. [Read more…]