My Poor Man's Mentality cannot bring myself to throw away personalized mailing labels, pens, nickels, or (randomly) gloves that non-profits send me to get a donation. And Poor Mandy cannot always donate. So what to do with all the "Please Accept Our Free Gift"'s? It's not really free since it is designed to guilt you into donating and if you don't or can't then it costs you an ounce of self-respect when you use those "gifts". I thought I had put myself on a "Don't send me junk mail" list and maybe I did. But I guess I found myself on a Sold List. And I blame the ASPCA. Because I give to them. And now I'm getting Wildlife stuff, Save the Wolves, Humane Society, and some one about horses that I didn't open. I was afraid of being confronted with Sad Horse Eyes. But if it was only a letter then I could confidently say, "I have to limit my giving so I shall tear my name and address off and shred it and then recycle the rest." That's not actually word-for-word. I guess I'm trying to win you over with my conscientiousness to justify keeping the LA SPCA wrapping paper this past Christmas...and actually using it. So that there is the problem: it's not just a letter. It's free stuff. Free stuff that borderline hippies like me will feel guilty about throwing away and guilty about keeping without donating. However, I don't feel bad about the mailing labels anymore. Someone once said to me, "I see it as free advertising for their cause. And that's my donation." I know: weasel. But it's enough to reserve my guilt for something else. Like those damn nickels that some organizations tape to their solicitation. What's that about? I'm assuming they did some research that assured them that the return would more than make up for the lost coins. (Side note: when I was younger, I was afraid to use those pennies and nickels for fear they were counterfeit. I guess I thought they were like the fake credit cards that came with the applications. You know, like Amex's with the name CF Frost. Remember that faux dude?) But I CANNOT. THROW. MONEY. AWAY. So I bury it in my plastic Improv cup with the legitimately earned nickels and dimes. And then I won't know I'm using tainted money when I later on need vending coins. Not that it always works. I know it's in there. Waiting...
The Fret Level is overwhelming enough that I need to go lie down and snuggle with my Humane Society blanket...
Amenities of Room 622: Special WWF Suite. Fridge stocked with National Park Service water bottles and Baby Seal Snicker bars. Pay What You Can laundry bags.
No comments:
Post a Comment