My sister keeps asking me when I'm going to come out of the closet. Sorry. No. It's not that kind of closet. It's my plastic closet--a closet I'm in because I've been hiding my little plastic-free experiment from my co-workers all this time.
Well, guess what. The other day, one of my co-workers came up to me and said, "Um, were you in Time Magazine?" Oh my God, I can't explain to you the way my heart jumped in my chest when she said that. It was crazy. I think I started sweating. I definitely couldn't breathe.
But after I caught my breath and dabbed the sweat off my brow (just kidding, I almost never sweat), she and I started chatting about the article and she was SO NICE about my blog and what I'm doing. She was so incredibly supportive that it made me want to cry.
Since this initial confession, I've now told five or six of my co-workers know about my blog and my plastic-free-ness, and I'm sure many others are about to find out or have already heard about it through the grapevine.
So I guess I'm out of the closet.
But now I have a problem. It's going to be weird to talk about my bathing habits and other personal junk now that my co-workers might be reading along.
Oh, well. I guess I'll just have to get over it.