The Unintentional Hypocrite Speaks

I am going straight to Hell.  I will not pass Go, I will not collect $200.  I will not place my hand on the television set and feel Jesus and be redeemed.  It hasn’t been a week since I talked about being all environmentally conscious, painting my household as just a millimeter under Al Gore’s, and now in one morning I have singlehandedly raised the carbon footprint of the entire Southeast region of the United States of America. 

This is the story.  A wonderful friend is taking some of my beautiful, original, handmade knits from the store (yes, I’m going to Hell for lack of humility, too, but that’s another story) to sell as a vendor at a religious convention.  (Oh God, this is looking worse and worse!)  Last night I began to prepare, making sure that the selected items all had labels, preparing an inventory list, and generally gloating over the gorgeous array of items for her table.  I’m sending hats, lots of scarves, baby sweaters (because everyone likes looking at cute little stuff) and some afghans.  This morning I had very little to do.  All I needed was to print out my prepared statement for the table, something sweet and homey that introduces people to my products and my hard-working, fiber-lovin’ self.  I made umpteen printing trials.  The print was too large, too small, too hard to read, too flowery, too everything…I think that was the first 100 sheets of precious paper.  I finally got the font and size and wording right.  I began to print again, more fresh paper…and the colored ink cartridge fizzzled out.  Another pile of paper wasted.  I changed the colored ink cartridge, added more paper.  It was perfect, it was printing, so I went to get breakfast.  When I returned, I had a pile of barely readable sheets.  The black cartridge had fizzled.  In the end, a whole forest died to produce my short stack of Turtlefat collection promotional statements for the store. 

Yes, I saved the sheets so I could make copies on the back, and I’m going to send in the dead cartridges to be recycled.  But that doesn’t assuage my conscience or alleviate the shame.  Al Gore doesn’t love me any more.  I’m going to have to turn in my lifetime membership with Girl Scouts of America.  Yep, I can feel it coming.  After I serve my time in environmental hell, I’m going to be reincarnated as a pig.  Oink.




2 Responses

  1. You’re not going to hell and Al Gore is not God. When God does come All things will be made new. I believe God will recycle all the messes we’ve made.

  2. He he he! U smart, funny girl!

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