Littering

I've done it.
In fact, I have a confession. When I was a child I loved to litter. I am ashamed to admit this, but it is time to confess. I cannot keep it bottled up any longer.
Using the world as my trash can and disobeying my mother gave me a rush, it was amazing. I remember my favorite place to litter out of was the car on the highway. I remember so vividly taking the remnants of my happy meal container and throwing pieces out the window, watching in the side mirror as the trashed released from my grasp and whipped away. I was such a compulsive litterer that I even took a flip flop off of my foot once and chucked it out the window. I was stealth. I had to be. I would peer at my mother, to make sure she was focused on the road, and then BAM I would litter. It was rather difficult explaining to her what had happened to my left flip flop once we met our destination. But, being probably 5 or 6 years of age, I could get away with just "losing" things.
As I got older, my addiction got harder to cover up. People would see, and would look at me with the look of disgrace. You know, everyone's like "save the planet, recycle, be green." Nope, not me. It just wasn't my nature. I loved to litter and refused to seek help. But then, things changed. I started to realize the importance of having both of my shoes, and the satisfaction of placing things in trash cans. The litter club I wanted to start didn't seem as alluring. I am happy to say I have been litter free since 1997.
Thanks for listening. The first step is acceptance.