I’m cutting up veggies for a salad. Huz picks up a bunch of lame lettuce leaves I’ve put to the side and throws them in the bin.
“What are you doing?! I was going to put that in the compost bin I’m making!”
He looks at me with wtf?! face.
“Oh, I’m making a compost bin. I’m tired of being a horrible human. I’m tired of being lazy and spoiled and selfish and bloated by mediocrity. I’m tired of wasting food. Do you realize some people walked across a desert for two months with kids strapped to their backs in order to come to this country? What the hell are we doing? I’m sick of wasting food. Every time I throw out leftovers, I get sick. It’s enough. We have to give more charity. We have to help other people. We have to do whatever we can, even if it makes no difference globally, just so we can at least appreciate the situation we’re in, and also be prepared for one day when we don’t have anything to eat. I really think one day we will not have enough to eat, and then we’ll think back to the good days and think, ‘what the fuck were we thinking?’ You don’t think that’s what the people in the Holocaust did? Think back to the good times? When they had food? Just leave the lettuce there. I’ll get a bucket to put it in.”
It’s a Darma and Greg moment, one of many in the last six years, as he replies, “I… I just wanted some lunch.”