I just wanted a rubber band. One rubber band from the kitchen junk basket.
This was too much to ask from the junk basket. Four minutes and thirty seven seconds into the task I marched – marched calmly – to the basement for my sledge hammer. It is a 10 pound sledge. Not the heaviest. It has a shock absorbing plastic handle. Not the most traditional.
It works.
(When I bought my sledge two older guys in line with me nudged each other a whole lot until one of them worked up the nerve to ask – “Is that for your husband’s truck? Heh heh heh,” they both laughed and poked each other with gnarled index fingers. “Hoo boy, he must have done something pret-ty bad. Heh heh heh.” I didn’t smile. “Yep,” I said.)
Anyway.
Next time I want a rubber band, the [new] kitchen junk basket should consider giving it up easy.
wideeyedfunk 
As organized as you are with everything else in our house…I have always been shocked that the junk basket has been allowed to exist. It is completely disorganized and often part of its contents spill out of the basket when you open the door of the cabinet where it lives. It is total pandemonium!
I guess its reign of terror has ended though…