The apartment dryer has died. I would mourn the passing, but really it's just meant my clothes are now full-on wet instead of a little damp, because the damn thing never really worked anyway. Unfortunately, I do need clothes. So, I've been taking advantage of one of the many benefits Point Saint Charles offers, besides an unparalleled collection of abandoned factories: CLOTHESLINES. Look, I know I'm getting a little weird and house-proud, but I love my clothesline. It makes me feel like a competent person to hang up laundry, although I have often forgotten it on the line and lost a few good towels that way. The clothes smell so good when they come off the line. Oh, and it's free and better for the environment.
Which, I feel conflicted about. I know that I should be more ecologically sound, part of a shift that our society should be making. Hell, I even listened to a frightening TVO lecture this morning about global warming, and how to current estimates we're working with are actually grossly optimistic. But it also annoys me that the steps shown and sold to us are so small, and so evasive of the real problems. This was part of the reason why I abandoned my Greening project, because I realized half of the steps involved buying new crap anyway. And the rest somehow led to a life without cheeseburgers, so no. It makes me want to slap every smug person carrying a reusable bag, especially when their bags loudly advertise that fact. Not because of the bag, necessarily, but because they probably didn't need what was in it anyway.
And then, I would have to deal with my own hypocrisy, because if my assault charge comes on a day like today, I would have shuffled over to my dep for overpriced ice cream and canned soup, probably sealed with the tears of Guatemalan orphans. And then carried my shame home in a reusable bag.
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