There may be an intervention soon in my home. My family thinks I have a problem.

My addiction is disrupting our lives. It's consuming time I don't have and luring me, they say, into some bizarre behaviors -- though what's so bizarre about digging through trash bags? At least the trash bags are inside the house.

I've been in denial, of course. "Yes, I may occasionally go too far," I'd say, "but most of the time my actions are reasonable, even virtuous!" And they'd roll their eyes.

I'm beginning to think they're right. My problem? I've become a manic recycler.

Doesn't that sound obnoxious? Insufferable, even. It's as if I'm covertly inviting you to admire my noble nature while pretending to ask you to feel sorry for me. Double yuck.

But the problem is insidious, and my only hope here is that I'm not alone. Or that I'll make you laugh at my weirdness.

Do you rescue the peanut butter jar that a family member has thoughtlessly thrown in the trash and carry it room to room, searching for the culprit?

Do you keep three different bags of paper recyclables -- one for the bin, one for the shredder and one for re-use in the printer? Do you stumble over them in the kitchen?

When you trim the "Box Tops for Education" to send to your kids' school, do you make sure all the little shards of cardboard get recycled?

Would you lean into the Abitibi bin to retrieve the plastic bag that some numskull used to deposit their paper? Would you lean WAY in?

No? You mean, I'm nuts? Well, my family agrees with you.

I tell them I could relax a bit if other people would do their part -- say, by not leaving that last teaspoon of milk in the container in order not to have to be the one to rinse it out for the blue bin. Sigh. It's so hard saving the planet all by myself.

But thanks to certain family members' stubborn resistance to my Household and Global Improvement Plan, I have come to realize my little obsession is not just about doing good. It's a lot about seeing measurable success in some area of my life. It might be about control.

I used to think of this as a "mommy thing." When your kids are toddlers and caring for them consumes every moment of your day, you may not have many quantifiable achievements to review at day's end: "Well, I kept them diapered and fed and alive today -- that's it."

So you'd need a household task or hobby or freelance pursuit to measure your daily contribution to the betterment of humanity: "I kept the kids alive -- and I cleaned a bathroom/blogged/finished three pages in the family scrapbook!"

Well, that was what I might have done back in earlier, more energetic years. Now all I can manage is putting junk mail and newspapers into paper bags and dropping them off for recycling.

And I've come to understand that this is not a "mommy thing," it's an adult thing. Many of us hold jobs in which measuring success is difficult. A project's timeline is so protracted or the results so fleeting that we look for a simple, satisfying instance of accomplishment.

Hence, saving the world! I achieve something measurable and wrest order from chaos and atone for the wastefulness of modern life -- all by recycling! I know that's a lot of weight for those flimsy plastic grocery bags to carry -- so use cloth instead!

Of course, there's a danger in my confession, besides the possibility that you now think your friendly suburban columnist is a loon, and it is this: Despite being smart enough to improve your minds by reading your daily newspaper, some of you may not yet have evolved to the point of conscientious recycling. You may read my column and think, "I don't want to end up like this poor woman!" and just keep throwing perfectly good water bottles in the trash. That might be my fault, and I don't want that on my head.

So let me reassure you that it's possible to practice environmental virtue in moderation. Or, at least, I've heard it's possible.

I've heard there are people out there who do not feel compelled to find a second use for the paper towels their spouses have just used to dry their freshly washed hands. Not that I would do that. That would be crazy, right?