The recycling station has a score of bins and many directions and I have to be honest, I understand few if any of them. I can deal with the trash bags and the cardboard, and then I get hopelessly confused. The former girlfriend gets it all, whizzing from bin to bin as if she designed them. At some point, she usually takes the stuff out of my arms and I go and get the camera. I think I have a learning disability when it comes to choices. I married well. She is the Queen of the Recycling Station.