The Mother Ship Must Be On Its Way

This morning, my husband declared that he is going to stop eating Cheerios, because the inner bag cannot be recycled. He's only eating foods that come in recyclable packaging now (so he doesn't eat take-out Chinese food anymore either), and he'd rather not use plastic at all, even if it has a number on it.

My Chum asked me the other day if he's working on saving a planet, is it this one, or the one he came from?

Hmmmmm.

Part of his plan, apparently, is to generate less garbage. I don't understand how he's willing to use the kitchen garbage bags I buy, but he is, only not more than one a week. In fact, it takes us a week to fill up one bag. Unfortunately, that means that the garbage is sitting there in the kitchen for the whole week. There's definitely something wrong with this picture, yes? I think I have to get a smaller trash receptacle, and possibly biodegradable bags for it.

It also occurred to me that after 32+ years of marriage, I'll bet that every time we visit his parents and leave at the end and drive off, his mother must turn to his father with a great sigh of relief and say "I still can't believe somebody married him!"

I'm making it sound worse than it is, but truly, he is waaaay up there on the eccentric scale. (But he has many other fine qualities.)

Later.

The buzz hereabouts is all coming from the state legislature in Trenton and that sack of crap who was elected our governor in November. (Yes, New Jersey elects governors in odd-numbered years. *sigh*) Mr. Christie does not seem to care for teachers, firemen, police officers, and any other public employee. We also have a huge budget deficit, originally brought about by our last Republican governor, Christie Todd Whitman. (Remember her?) So the current Christie is getting every penny he can out of the pension fund, and adding all kinds of new rules, and our spineless assemblymen are giving him the votes he needs to do it. I believe that this man would cut off his own arms if it would save his legs five cents.

So, will I retire this year, whether I want to or not? Will my job even exist next year? Tune in next time, folks.