Bins, Boundaries, and Small Victories

My esteemed coworker has been on vacation for the past two weeks. That meant I have to work full-time — stressful enough on its own — while still juggling my other ongoing commitments.

She’s not just appreciated by me, but by the entire team. Why? Because of her impeccable work ethic. She somehow manages to meet every deadline and keep everyone happy. Her bathroom breaks are shorter than those of any guy on the team (some of them disappear for 15+ minutes with their phones), and she practically volunteers for maid duty.

Which brings me to today’s story.

On any given day, I save a technician’s behind at least once. Whether it’s urgently requesting a forgotten license, returning wrongly ordered hardware, or calming a customer — I’m on it.

I also don’t mind picking up groceries like coffee beans or milk for the team — because coffee matters. I make sure we have stamps and I take packages to the post office weekly. But I draw the line at taking out the trash. And here’s why:

1. The device holding our 90-liter garbage bag is nearly my size and equally heavy.

2. Same goes for the steel dumpster outside.

3. When my coworker is gone, I’m the only woman on the team. Which means there are plenty of tall, strong guys around — with plenty of macho energy.

And yet, every time she’s away, the trash piles up until it overflows. It starts to smell. Everyone just walks by, pretending it’s invisible. Sometimes my husband — who also happens to be my boss — will say, “Someone should really empty the trash.” And every time, I reply: “Yes, someone should. But I’m not the maid.” Especially since most of that trash is made up of bulky plastic containers from takeaway lunches. I eat at home. Off real plates.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels

Let’s not forget the eternal mystery of the almost-empty toilet paper roll. You know the move — leaving one lonely square behind, then swearing, “There was still some left!” Like it’s some kind of legal loophole. Is it laziness? Passive protest? A social experiment? Either way, it’s not my job to play bathroom fairy.

This time, I waited the trash situation out. Braced myself.

And today, when I came back from lunch — at home — I saw the guys scurrying around, carrying trash bags. I wish I’d seen who finally took the initiative, but I just high-fived myself internally and smiled.

That smile was almost wiped off my face when my husband approached, two trash bag rolls in hand, and asked:

“Which one’s the right size?”

Was this weaponized incompetence? A failed joke? Small talk? Who knows.

Still — nature ran its course. And today, I’m grateful for small wins.

It's a small thing, but in a way, it's not. When people stop assuming and start acting, it shifts the whole dynamic — one bag of trash at a time.

Now on to you:

• Have you ever quietly drawn a line — and seen it respected (eventually)?

• What’s your “trash bag” at work — the invisible task everyone expects someone else to handle?

• How do you deal with unspoken role expectations in your team?