52° and Partially Crazy

I just decided to clean out our bathroom drawers - we have so much junk! I have body sprays, lotions, jewelry I haven't thought about in ages, half-empty tubes and bottles and all kinds of things I just chuck into the trash can without thinking about it for too long. If I start to spend time pondering whether or not I want to discard my last 2 droplets of some perfume, or some old lip gloss, I might start to feel guilty - and that is when I get going with perhaps my strangest habit: personifying inanimate objects and worrying about whether or not they will get to fulfill their destiny. Like that perfume was made at the perfume factory long, long ago. It has sat patiently in my drawer believing that one day it would be chosen for a special occasion. It must - otherwise it would have been thrown out by now, right? Then one day the giant hand appears and reaches for it, lifts it out of the drawer, and - could it be? Just as that perfume gets its hopes up, it finds itself in the trash can with all the other unwanted toiletries. It makes me sad. I know it sounds crazy, but I do this with everthing from un-popped popcorn kernels to the last square of toilet paper. In my mind I know they don't actually have thoughts and feelings, but something in my heart starts to convince me otherwise, and I can't shake it. I guess I really don't like to be wasteful!