How much trash can a person have in one day? I found out just how wasteful I am when I went an entire day without throwing anything away. Yes, slung over my shoulder or pulling out my right arm socket, I carried it around with me in a big white bag. At first it didn’t seem like there would be much, but once the paper towels, leftover food and various boxes and bags began to pile up, the results were hefty in weight and size.

The rules were simple: go a whole day without throwing any trash away, but instead put it in a bag and carry it around. The day began with a few used tissues due to a lingering cold which made my nose run like a spigot. Throughout the day, I learned that my nose was a virtual trash-making machine, continually providing fluffy bulk to my bag. But that was not all that went along with me for the day. The bag, which hung continually at my side, saw water bottles, paper towels, gum and many food packages saved from their normal disposal for 24 hours.

My bag of refuse earned some vibrant colors at lunch, breaking up the monotony of white tissue paper and plastic bottles with some leftover pizza, smeared mashed potatoes, bits of turkey, gnocchi and filthy napkins. The bag also began to take on a distinctive, raunchy smell that seeped out whenever it was not securely twisted shut. The smell only worsened throughout the day, causing me to be efficient and nimble when disposing my trash.

Lunchtime also brought the first question about my Pilgrim’s Progress-like load of refuse. I caught several inquisitive glances at the bag, but no one was willing to question my extra appendage until finally my roommate, who I had neglected to inform of my venture, finally asked, “What’s with the bag?”

I told him of the experiment and he seemed pleased and rather amused – a response that would be repeated for the rest of the day.

By dinnertime, the bulk of trash had grown to stretch the bag and reveal its contents through the opaque plastic. Because of this development, comments from passersby and nearby diners became much more common than they had been at lunchtime. I could see a nearby table clearly pointing and laughing as I shoveled my unfinished surplus into the bag. Dinner offered much more trash than lunch in the form of barbeque beef brisket, black eye pea stew and a corncob.

At the end of the night, the bag was finished off with cookie packages, a box for a microwave sandwich and some paper cups, finishing in a size well beyond my expectations for the day. On a day that seemed average to me in my amount of wastefulness, I created an overwhelming amount. Imagine the output of really big trash days: the discarded candy wrappers of Halloween, the wasted food of Thanksgiving, and the paper and boxes of Christmas – they are all enough to make my one day seem like nothing in comparison.

If the average person discards the amount of trash every day like I did, then it is no wonder why landfills fill up so quickly. There was so much waste throughout the day that could have easily been remedied: a handkerchief instead of tissues, and eating all my food or just not getting it instead of letting it rot. There were so many opportunities to conserve when all I did was create more garbage. After all was said and done, I threw the bag into the dumpster behind Hope Hall, happy to be free of my burden, but disappointed in how wasteful I had been.