Dealing with the angst of being me.

I bet, if my mother had been a Famous Person when she had me, and if she had had any idea of the 'me' I would turn out to be, she would have named me Angst.  I have been worrying about the planet since the first Earth Day.  (I was a toddler.  Really.)  I worry about recycling - I can envision my trash on a landfill.  I hear sheep bleating in the middle of the night when there is none to be heard.  I read Joel Salatin and feel I must be just like him.  Visions of polar bears swimming in an endless search for ice floes pop up in my mind's eye.  I have to approach the cat litter aisle in my local pet mart with my eyes closed, so I don't see the cats and kittens up for adoption.  That can be painful in so many ways.

Some of my latest angst-driven moments have revolved around laundry detergent.  (It's sad, ain't it?)  I have been making my own since: a) it's cheaper; b) it creates less waste that must be recycled or, gasp, thrown out; c) I know exactly what is in it; and d) it is the thing to do if you are a true homesteader.  The problem is, the one ingredient that I have such a hard time finding is ... time.  Time to make it.  You can search every dang cupboard in my house and you will find no time.  No time in the pantry.  No time in the drawers or closets.  Yet, the weekend approaches and laundry looms.  Tired of losing sleep over the laundry soap dilemma, I took drastic action.  I ordered it online.  The good news?  I found a totally good, non-toxic, non-bad-for-the-environment detergent that is reasonably priced.  And, after opening the box and finding a compromised box seam which allowed a goodly amount of soap powder to scatter about the shipping box, the Seller agreed with my assessment that a plastic bag was in order (reusable, of course) and gave me a $5 credit for my trouble.

The bad news?  I envisioned my box and it's carbon footprint as it came lumbering to me.  And then I headed for the Merlot.