The Art of Taking Out the Trash - With a Note of Gratitude -

Quietly,
at the appropriate time,
placing the appropriate non-combustible waste
in the appropriate place.

People do this sort of thing on a daily basis. It is so taken for granted that there is nothing particularly worth mentioning. In fact, in my writing, I have almost [never] mentioned anything worth calling a mention.

Regarding the disposal of this non-combustible waste, there are those who dispose of it regularly, faithfully following the rules, without a single error, and without saying a word to anyone, while there are others who dispose of it so inappropriately that, as a resident, I cannot condone it.

At this point, I have no intention of drawing a clear line between right and wrong here. I do not have the time or energy to go out of my way to point out and condemn the offenders.

In the first place...

I don't want to get involved in troublesome matters.

Even I, who am so rough and careless, have never been able to boast that I have performed a strict disposal. In the first place, there is always something mixed in the non-combustible waste bag that does not qualify as non-combustible waste. Even if I were to check everything using an electron microscope, I could not remove the impurities.

This may be unfortunate news for those who love cleanliness, but no matter how much you clean, an environment with zero house dust is impossible. Of course, if there were no humans there, there would be no house dust. House dust exists as something that affects humans, and if there are no humans to be affected, house dust does not exist. (Huh? Lol)

Due to my background, I inevitably get passionate when it comes to trash. To put it in detail, it is because I have experiences that I want to cherish, to the extent that I don't think I need about 100,000,000 pages.

Because of that, my level of interest in human behavior regarding trash is at a level where I am convinced that I have the nickname of a trash professional... (Am I okay? Am I?)

...

In my district, there is a collection of plastic waste and PET bottles once a week on a specific day. In addition, every other week, the collection of non-combustible waste also overlaps.

The day when non-combustible waste overlaps is naturally difficult; depending on what you are putting out, it cannot be done in one trip. It is quietly hard labor.

That day, I made three round trips between the trash collection area and my home. There was probably something mixed in that did not qualify as non-combustible, and I must have caused trouble for everyone involved. (Huh? Lol)

It's finally over. I clapped my hands together lightly, put them on my waist, and stretched my body with a "Ugh." As I walked back to my house, there were many companions doing the same thing.

Everyone has a lifeless face, and we pass each other without our eyes meeting. Naturally, I have no energy either.

...

Hmm.

What I want to be recognized for is,

[disposing of the trash]
[the whole process]
[by the deadline]
[having completed it]

(However, with minor foreign matter mixed in)

After all, this mission accomplishment should be recognized a little more. After all, I am doing such an obviously difficult thing as a matter of course!

"Be grateful!"
"I worked hard today too!"
"Don't you think the room looks clean?"

Has gratitude
disappeared from this country?

...

The term "desire for approval" is trending (I think?). Approval... Why are people so tense about it, saying, "I'm excellent and I've done so much, so acknowledge me!"? They can do whatever they want.

I don't know what they are doing or not doing, but who, where, and how was my trash disposed of? I don't think about it, and even if I don't think about it at all, there is no problem whatsoever.

However, most people have someone else clean up the mess of the trash they produce. Have they ever even acknowledged the existence of that someone?

We don't even notice their existence, let alone acknowledge it.

I want to ask myself
a cliché question.

"How many times have you said 'thank you'?"

"How many times have you been told 'thank you'?"

The [thank you] I think of is not so much gratitude, but rather a sign that says, [I see your existence and actions entirely♪].

Next time,
I'll hold a bird counter in my right hand
to count the number of times I say [thank you],
and hold a bird counter in my left hand
to count the number of times I am told [thank you].

I think I'll try counting.
(However, there might be some counting errors.)

While I'm at it,
I'll fix a dedicated chocolate counter
to the side of my desk with a special bracket
and try counting
how many I put in my mouth.

How many did I eat today?

One? Two? Three? ...Ten...?

Oh no (sweat).
It seems like there will be more than [thank you]s.

One more
is fine, right?

Just one chocolate.