As my boss gave me and my fellow newbie coworker a tour of the offices, we were shown the breakroom and refrigerator.  That’s when it hit me, a feeling of deep shame.  A feeling of dread.  A sinking feeling that I had left others in danger.  Yes, the realization hit me that I may have (oh, I most certainly did, but I may be in a state of mild denial) left, ummm.  Ugh, I thought I heard you say, “Spit it out, why are you ashamed?”  Well, I may have left behind, ummm.  “Enough already, man!  What did you leave behind?!?”  Okay, so I think I may have left behind at my old job, in the work fridge, some, uh, oh dear, yogurt…  from a few months ago.  “Gasp!  Good Lord, you are a monster!”  But, I said it.  I admitted it.  I exposed my wretched soul.  I’m not only a food waster, but also a nasty food abandoner.  Bad former coworker, bad!

My sin is there for all to see (and at this point, probably smell) and I feel horrible.  To make matters worse, they will be completely justified in taking the hazardous waste disposal costs out of my last paycheck.  Oh, the shame.  Oh, the carelessness.  Oh, the disgust.  Oh, the horror of a long since expired Yoplait.