57 Varieties of Guilt

We changed our lightbulbs. We unplug anything not in use. The thermostat is turned down in the winter and up in the summer. We use ceiling fans instead of the A/C. We recycle. We use bio-degradable dog waste bags. I use environmentally friendly laundry, dish soaps and household cleaners. I don't leave the water running when I brush my teeth. As a household, we have tried to minimize the amount of waste produced by our family. We try to limit our negative impact on the environment.

But I have realized I have a long way to go. There is one area of my life that I have been remiss to address. One habit that I have allowed to continue unchecked. It would not be accurate to say we have "gone green", it would be more accurate to say I am still very "red".

Hello. My name is Eliza and I am a ketchup waster. My last wastage was two hours ago. (Hanging head in shame.)

I was raised in the Midwest. Which means I am a firm believer that ketchup is a food group. I will admit, I am nowhere near the connisseur of the condiment quite like my brother-in-law, Bear (who will eat it on Pringles and mashed potatoes if allowed - and who's NOT going to allow Bear to do as he pleases?) but still, I tend to partake of the delectable spread frequently. What I have come to realize lately, however, is that I am a ketchup waster.

The root of the problem (other than believing that ketchup should be consumed on just about everything) is that I'm a ketchup DIPPER. I really don't like to put ketchup ON my food, I just like to DIP my food in for a touch. Which means, I have to put a blob on my plate or in a small bowl, or someplace suitable for the proper dip. Perhaps this isn't the real problem, it's when the need to dip comes into play with my complete inability to estimate. So, when I sit down to eat a sandwich for lunch, and I squeeze out some ketchup onto my plate I have absolutely NO IDEA how much ketchup is really enough. I just know that I don't want to have to get back up for MORE. So I blob. And then I blob a little more. And perhaps just a touch more. And maybe one more squeeze just to be safe. And one more just for looks. And a little squeeze to round it out. And one more just to be double safe.

And so my plate returns to the sink twenty minutes later with more ketchup left than was consumed and I feel guilty and ashamed washing it down the sink.

I know that realizing I have a problem is the first step to recovery. I am proud to at least be able to say out loud that I have a ketchup wasting problem and to let the world know that I am seeking treatment.

And just like many medical procedures, I believe the best treatment lies outside of our country. So, I must move. To some European country where they charge you for each ketchup packet you need. Perhaps I'll move to France where they don't even eat ketchup on their fries! Or maybe I'll just move to China where they have no idea what is so French about a Fry.

All I know is I have to find a solution before Christmas. One more hand written card from the CFO of Heinz thanking me for personally making the year another highly profitable one for the company is more than I can bear.