December 3, 2020
I used to think Costco was the answer to life. Costco wanted us to think that it was the answer to life. Costco is still a great place, and pays good wages. But I am reminded that Costco is not the answer to life. It’s just a warehouse store that generally runs an ethical business but usually pushes us to overconsume and has too much plastic packaging. I have a lot of self-control these days and I can walk into Costco without leaving with three giant Olaf plushies. Yes, we once did that. The last plushie went to a good highschool friend who also re-homed/bought our extra care. No one needs an extra car. I was trying to find that bloglink, but can’t find it. I’ll try to link it later.
Anyway, last weekend my college sweetheart and only ever boyfriend now husband of almost 20 years Mr. Plastic Picker and I went to Costco. It was very romantic. We bought mostly things in bulk but I was tempted by a crate of mangos. I have family in our southeast Asian homeland that has a mango tree farm, and mangos ripe from the tree are delicious. Here in southern california, we make due with Costco. But do we really need to? The mangoes on the outside looked decent, and I am well aware due to my ethnic heritage how to judge the ripeness of a mango. The ripeness was about right to eat the next week. Our daughter loves mangos. So we bought a crate. Last night I had a semi-tiring day at work. Mostly dealing with some adminstrative things again in my non-adminstrative off time. When everyone has left the office, I was still sitting there. But I also had a conversation with someone I care about and the conversation was very similar to conversations I’ve had prior to becoming Dr. Plastic Picker. Filled with gossip and some catching up, and some pettiness. I felt myself reverting to pettiness. It’s funny that when I join again with old intermittent acquaintances that have not been with me on this journey, I get to starkly look back at who I was before this blog – before I just decided to really care. I did not like that version of myself.