Compost.

Here at LoyaltyOne, we take great pride in damn near everything from our cafeteria being compostable. The forks, plates, napkins, spoons, knives, you name it. Odds are it goes in the compost bin. I think it’s great that we do that. We’re producing less waste this way. The real issue comes from what bins they give us at our desks. Sitting beside me I have a blue recycling bin approximately the size of a smallish desktop computer with a tiny little black garbage bin hanging off the side of it. Both of these bins have fairies which come by and empty them daily for me and it’s great. I don’t have a compost bin. Both of my bins are clearly labelled “Recycling” and “Garbage”, so I can’t put my compost in either of them. Why, pray tell, do I not have a compost bin? If you’re going to give me all this stuff that goes in the compost, would it not also make sense to give me a bin for it?

I also don’t have a little plastic cover for my cubicle name tag, so the piece of paper falls out occasionally.

I don’t reread these before I post them, so have fun.

For the following statement, the singular shall include the plural and the plural shall include the singular, and “or” is inclusive, functioning the same way as the logical OR operator.

I hereby dismiss any and all liability for any and all errors in the above text. “Error” includes a grammatical error of any kind, a sentence which does not make sense (“sentence” includes a sentence which is grammatically correct or a sentence which is grammatically incorrect), a sentence which is misleading, or any other kind of sentence which any party reading the above text deems to be nonsensical, confusing, or erroneous in any way.

The Right-hand Side Sink

Over the past month or so that I’ve been here, I noticed that the sink on the right in the washroom on my floor, let’s call it Dexter, doesn’t work. Dexter has never worked. Not since my first day here. I assumed that Dexter had simply not been fully assembled yet, seeing as my floor is a recent addition to LoyaltyOne’s cubicle space (it used to be used for conferences only). I went about my days using the sink on the left, let’s call it Sinister, without much of a care in the world for Dexter. For a week, as you all know, I was the only one on this floor. During that week I had been given no reason to believe that Dexter would ever work. Over the following weeks, people began to trickle onto my floor. At first there was maybe a dozen of us. Now there’s more — almost two dozen. We’re all still very quiet, though. Usually the only sound is the clickity clack of people typing and clicking away at their day’s work. Of course, as the 12^th floor population increased, so did the odds of me using the bathroom at the same time as somebody else. This did and does not bother me. It does, however, bring me to how I learned Dexter’s secret. Dexter does, in fact, work. Dexter works very well – if not better than Sinister. I realized this when I went to wash my hands after lunch the other day and found that somebody else was there doing just the same, but using Dexter. I thought no more of it than “Oh! Isn’t that nice. Maintenance has gone and made Dexter work.” Later that day I tried to use Dexter, only to find that it didn’t work. Dexter wouldn’t work for me. I thought that maybe the water to the sinks was off, so I tried Sinister. Sinister, being the consistent sink that it is, worked without a hiccup. I figured that maybe Dexter had broken again. Later that same day and several times in the following couple of days I saw Dexter working just fine for others, yet it never worked for me. I have determined that Dexter is a discriminatory sink and must be eliminated. I’m not yet sure how I’m going to eliminate it, but it must be done for the greater good.