No one talked about cheese.

It's my policy not to talk about my job. It's generally better that way because most people do not understand my line of work. AT ALL. And that is why I so thoroughly enjoy being around those who do understand it.

Still, I was nervous about my trip to Oakland to spend a day in the office because what if the people didn't like me? What if it was totally different from what I was used to when I worked in the office in Virginia? What if I slipped and mentioned how I sometimes eat cheese on purpose accidentally? Worst of all, what if I couldn't find anything to wear?

Well, all of my worries were for naught, because my day was AMAZING. I loved my coworkers, and they loved me (and my outfit, which was totally cute and got compliments for matching the organization's logo). No one talked about cheese.

Plus, Jason got to come along and keep me company in my hotel room. It made up for all of those work trips he took without me before he reenlisted in the Navy.

Ok, so it totally didn't make up for the time he went to Jamaica without me. But it's a start.

The weekend's big excitement was buying three Rubbermaid trash barrels for our beverage container recycling. I even made labels for them today. Don't laugh--I take my recycling very seriously! Ask my mom, who used to have a corner of her garage in Michigan monopolized by recycling bins that we'd have to haul to the township drop spot whenever they filled up because there was no pickup. That was 5-10 years ago, though, so the trash company may do curbside service by now. When I moved to Virginia after college I brought most of my recyclables to work because there wasn't a bin at my apartment, but there was at the office (and Virginia doesn't do bottle refunds, boo).

Here in California, they recycle almost everything curbside (even little towns like Lemoore!), and the bottle return rules are different than other states (like Massachusetts and Michigan) that have bottle deposits. Instead of having in-store centers where you put the cans and bottles one by one into a machine that counts them by piece, Californians must take their beverage containers (including plastic water and juice bottles!) to stands (usually in grocery store parking lots) where they're weighed and you're paid accordingly. You can also do it by piece some places, if the workers can be bothered to count them.

Now that I have my lovely bins we'll be able to wait until the barrels are full to schlep them into town and receive our handsome reward for being eco-friendly (last time we got a whole $2.20). I had been throwing the empty beer bottles and pop cans into a plastic bag in the back seat of my car. This concerned Jason to no end, but I thought the clinking at stop signs was rather musical.

This afternoon I battled the ant hordes for a while (in anticipation of trash pickup tomorrow), shoveling loose dirt into the trash barrel so they have nowhere to live. I struck gold, taking out two nests of them along the front of the house. I also sealed up a crack in the wall inside the garage that they had been using in their to- and fro-ing. They still haven't dared come back into the house. I like to think that they fear me now.