So the Scrubbies Project turns TWO today. So to mark this remarkable achievement in dish scrubbing I feel the need to wax poetic about stretching $1.74 worth of plastic scrubbies into a second year of, well, scrubbing.
The problem is, how does one wax poetic about a scrubbie? Here is a list of potential Scrubbie Thoughts:
1. Being organized is good as you don’t have to rush out and buy more scrubbies because you misplaced them.
Hmmm, that’s kind of weak, after all one can use a rag to scrub a dish.
2. The landfill contains 3.5 fewer scrubbies.
That’s really lame. I think there is far worse stuff going into the landfill.
3. I am stickin’ it to the man. Yup, giant scrubbie factory executive in [insert name of emerging economy nation here] is sobbing in front of his excel spreadsheet because sales are down due to some crazy chick in Canada.
Boy the more I wax poetic the more farfetched my thoughts are about the social significance of the scrubbie project.
There is no flowing fountain of wisdom (or chocolate) nor insightful simplicity laden thoughts concerning my scrubbie project. It’s just a silly/simple/stupid project to use something until it completely falls apart. I just don’t want to needlessly waste scrubbies by using them only a few times, or losing them, or getting Dentyne stuck to it.
Rest in gummy peace Scrubbie #6.