Can’t you smell that smell?

I am a bad volunteer. I left a kilo of tomatoes in the bureau. The hot, stinking bureau. For a week.

The fellow volunteers tried to help with a friendly reminder here, a text message there. And each time, I’d gasp, thank them profusely, and swear to remember the sack of what was becoming unidentifiable organic matter. And then, I’d promptly forget.

Today, someone (not me) finally chucked the sopping green bag outside. Although I scrubbed the carpet and apologized ad nauseum, the tomatoes stain my record. I am unreliable, forgetful, and now painfully aware of these shortcomings just three days before my APCD is scheduled to visit Atar.

Tomatoes have little to do with environmental education, but they are indicative of my harried state of mind. Juggling three schools, girl empowerment activities, ecoclubs, out-of-town seminars… Tyler suggested I cut back, better to do a few endeavors well instead of many less-than-well. I took his advice and promptly excluded breakfast, journal writing, leisure reading, and sleep from my schedule.

I have no idea if my APCD will appreciate, or even acknowledge, my cramped calendar. If all else fails, I’ll take him to the bureau. Work-induced madness and fatigue smells faintly of rotting tomatoes.