A few days ago I took out all the pens I could find around the house and put them on the dining room table so I could sort them: “Pens to keep” and “Pens to get rid of.” But each of those categories has several subcategories, like Pens I love but need ink refills; Pens for Rigid Plastics at the recycling center; Pens for school children; (…and more. I won’t further bore you.)
You may think this an occupation for the feeble minded, but I allowed this ridiculous number of pens to enter my home, thereby sentencing myself to this task. At least after I get done with this, I’ll think twice before I pick up more pens.
The pens are still on and around the dining room table. Lindi has been very patient. I’ve told her two or three times that the pens would be gone by the end of the day. Meanwhile I’ve been clearing a spot among them for us to eat there at mealtimes. Instead of candlelight suppers, we’re having ball-point-pen suppers. Think about that if you think junkiness doesn’t affect your quality of life.
Obviously, if I were efficient and didn’t care about pens or the environment, I would scoop them all up and throw them into our curbside garbage. But I can’t do it. I couldn’t live with myself, knowing they’d go straight to the landfill. I’m compelled to see that they get used to their death, and that they go into plastics recycling after that.
It feels like a dubious use of my ever-shrinking time on this earth. But now that I’m realizing that there’s nothing I can do to change who I am, I can at least change what’s left of my future: I will not spend my golden years on this drudgery! And the only way to prevent that is to become despotic about preventing further junk accumulation in my home.
Next: a photo of the sorted pen-mountain, as proof of the completed task.
Kate,
Schools will often take pens, pencils, paper, etc. When I moved I took a home office full of stuff like this down to the elementary school near me and they were thrilled!
Hope your pens aren’t still on your table.