It’s All Rubbish

People irritate me at the best of times. I have little patience for stupidity, impoliteness, or a whole list of other negative traits that make this world a frustrating place to live in. My own transgressions are most likely many more than I probably think, but this doesn’t assuage my despair at others’ incompetence.

Our apartment, like all blocks of flats, gives us access to two rooms for rubbish, one of which is a recycling centre. They are situated about two metres from each other, but it does not prevent the no-brainers from throwing recyclable materials in the rubbish, or actually taking it to the correct room, only to then neglect any kind of sorting process.

I tried to convince myself that, as I was 10 years ago, some people are unenlightened and, with time, they will also realise the error they commit. This would be a reasonable thought, though the situation is a very different one from mine, as recycling in Sweden is much more widespread and well organised than it was when I was a lad.

That said, I do not wish to traduce the fact that the majority (of those who recycle) do sort their waste correctly. I don’t even know where I am going with this, since I have temporarily lost the ability to be enraged by a situation that did

a) make me seethe.

b) make me concerned enough to write this entry.

I need to go to bed and get a good night’s sleep.