<p>My most powerful thinking is done on staircases. I dont know exactly why, but to me, staircases are like elevators to a higher level of thought. Ive come to the conclusion that there are two kinds of people in this world those who make the world their trashcan, and those who make the trashcan their world. Im a member of the latter. </p>
<p>Many days, I am wakened by the crackle of an empty potato chip bag, crinkling in the wind on the driveway outside my open window. Somebody left it there. No. Somebody dropped it and it found its way to my yard.</p>
<p>That piece of litter was hers. Her chips were in that bag, and now its empty. Shes left someone else responsible for that bag. That is, someone else has to deal with her past, her mistakes.</p>
<p>The world is her trashcan.</p>
<p>I begin each day in pretty much the same way. I roll out of bed reluctantly; its always cold. I brush my teeth, crack my knees, slip into some pants, throw on a shirt, and prepare to face the world. I prepare to clean other peoples garbage.</p>
<p>My best friend Conor is usually my ride to school, but for some odd reason, he didnt pick me up this morning. Im late for the first day of school. I pass him in the hallway and reach out for a quick handshake. He walks right by me. Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? I must have. I shrug it off and make my way to Room 223 my new English classroom. I knocked for at least four minutes before Mrs. Berkshire angrily swung the door openr for me. I dont think she ever liked me. Oh well. I go to my volleyball game; Coach Henderson benches me. Sheesh! Could this day have gotten any worse?</p>
<p>Ill be honest. I used to constantly dwell on days like this, swearing that I was the root of all trouble. It took a few flights of stairs before I was able to consider another possibility:</p>
<p>Perhaps everything wasnt my fault. What if I really hadnt done anything wrong? Turns out that was the case. </p>
<p>You see, Conor wasnt upset or disgusted with me, but at his parents finalizing their divorce last night, and that he would no longer be living with his father. And Mrs. Berkshire? Her daughter is in critical condition, fighting for her life, due to a car accident she was involved in just two evenings ago. What about Coach Henderson? Hes always crazy.</p>
<p>Its all beginning to make sense to me now. Theyve all taken their anger and grievances out on me. Theyve included me in their problems. </p>
<p>They left their empty bags of chips in my driveway for me to deal with.</p>
<p>But hey, what can I do? Thats life. Were all destined to deal with someones empty bag of chips someday. One day, Ill leave mine somewhere; but until then, Ill continue to use others trash as my wake up call each day.</p>