Breakfast the One-Hundred-and-Twentieth

Strawberry and blueberry smoothie. And tea, of course.

People are so peculiar. As I was dashing out this evening I realised I'd forgotten to collect my recycling box and compost box from outside. I was running late (and wielding a cello), so I popped them inside the main door of our building to carry upstairs when I got back, as I didn't want some drunk student running off with them before I got home.

When I returned, I found they'd been dumped outside on the pavement again, and the ribbon that I keep tied around the compost box (so I know which one is mine) was gone. Now, if we had some tremendously smart stairwell, I might understand; but we don't. Our stairwell is luminous yellow, littered with bicycles, carpeted with some grotty, blue, polyester crap and almost invariably smells like curry. My boxes were by no means an assault on the aesthetics of the space. It's spacious too, so it's not like they were in anyone's way (especially given that I specifically tucked them away where people wouldn't trip over them).

I just can't imagine what kind of person would be so annoyed by a couple of recycling boxes (particularly when they've never been left there before) as to actually go to the effort of booting them outside again -- some joyless curmudgeon looking for things to get cross about I suppose... But plastic boxes, really? I can't even imagine being moderately miffed by a couple of stray boxes.

What does miff me though, is my missing ribbon.