Amy Frykholm

This morning, I set out early on some errands. I stopped by the co-op because I knew that we had just gotten some apples, onions and potatoes in at a good price. I filled my bag, wrote my check and walked out of the co-op. I was fifty paces out the door toward home when it occurred to me that I had just bought the potatoes in plastic. The thought had not even entered my mind. I was thinking about what a good price they were and how the co-op needs to sell them before they rot. I was thinking that it was good to get my shopping out of the way. For all the time that I have been obsessing about my use of plastic, I did not even hesitate.

I was surprised by the wave of shame that came over me, the defensiveness, the self-justification, the frustration with myself. Mostly, I was shocked that the thought hadn’t entered my brain until the potatoes were purchased and I was out the door. There must be a Freudian expression for this willful repression of intention.

I knew the plastic fast would be difficult. I don’t know that I thought it would be difficult in exactly this way. I had hoped that I might at least get to feel a little self-righteous, but I guess self-righteousness has to go in the trash with my potato bag. 

Meanwhile, I visited this blog and found it very useful: a woman who has been trying to live "no new plastic" for three years. I probably couldn't live three years without a new toothbrush, however.