The Irony of Recycling

At the beginning of each year, I get all jazzed to “pair down”. I know this is just how my brain works each January after a crazed December of giving and getting. During this time of year, it is not unheard of for me to stock up on the latest tomes from the local library on cutting clutter for the organizationally challenged individuals. I should note, however, that while I may hunt for the elusive “fix” for all my disorganization, I am obviously not alone. The library is constantly acquiring new books for me to peruse on the subject for any nuggets of wisdom I might not have already heard.

But my lack of success in this arena is not the issue at the moment though. My issue is that it appears I have lost a book called Reduce, Reuse, Recycle from the library. I find this ironic, since I swear I have a memory of returning it last week along with several other books. But the library checked their stacks and my friendly librarian can’t find it either, so currently the fault is lying at my door. 

What’s worse is that I didn’t even read the stinking book. It was a little yellow book with the recycling triangle on the front, and my daughter liked the picture on the cover and took it home to enjoy looking at the rest of its pictures. No one actually read the darn thing, and yet I am ripping through the house trying to figure out where it could have been misplaced.

I find this entire situation ironic. Perhaps if I had the read the little yellow book in the first place, I might not find myself in this current predicament?