So Trashy

Pick up your trash. Push your chair in. Be thankful. These are just a few normal operational characteristics on this campus. At times, I wonder if i might suffer from a mild case of OCD, to become as irritated with table tops littered with some assholes lunch remnants, or when I watch a staff worker in the Learning Center do the chair mombo every ten to twenty minutes pushing chairs back into their rightful place.  

Upon further consideration and confirmation from my girlfriend, it is safe to say I am far from an orderly fellow. I contribute my fair share to the mess here on campus. The mess that other people are tasked with cleaning up. The human beings that clean each bathroom, hallway, and room in our building, work tirelessly to make sure our campus is not the pigsty a majority of our fellow students strive for each and every day.

Although I may not be OCD, it is verifiable that I am a creature of habit, and in so I have an established way of doing things. I arrive on campus at 7:30 a.m. every morning. I find myself greeted each morning by the gleam of a new opportunity, reflecting up from the floors of Takena Hall. I can’t help but think each time,  “ whoa somebody needs a raise.” Everything from the papers on the countertops, to the liners in the trash cans, seem to have been magically reorganized like a seen from the Disney classic “Fantasia.” I stop off to get coffee and head to my math class.   

By the time I wrap up my educational needs for the day, I pack my bag and signify my pending exit with a sigh. My walk most times starts in the Learning Center. I usually don’t notice what transpires around me during the day because of my machine like focus (har har) but at the end of the day when most students have filtered away, I can’t help but notice the bits and pieces of crap that have been left behind after a long day. They are on the floor, they are on the table tops, and there is no one left in the room to pick them up.

I meander through the upper corridors of Takena Hall and see how all but a few of the table tops have been mistaken for trash receptacles. I traipse down the stairs and head for the front doors to catch a bus home and that is when (on most days), I come face to face with the magical force that I often ponder in the mornings upon arrival, broom in-hand and the look of determination chiseled into her face. I say, thank you and good job.