Why didn't I do that sooner?

The little fixes that make a big deal

Apr 10, 2023

For years I've worried about what to do with dull disposable knife blades.

You can't just chuck an X-Acto or utility knife blade in the trash after its last cut. Well, you could - but it's not safe. They can easily poke through bags and hurt you or someone else, such as your friendly neighborhood sanitation worker. No, most waste disposal authorities suggest wrapping those used blades tightly in tape for safe discard. But if you're like me, you're knee-deep in a project every time an edge needs changing, so you swap it out, set the old one aside to tape up later, and keep working. Soon, used blades litter your space, and that well-intentioned goal of not hurting anyone results in a veritable minefield of dull but dangerous sharps throughout the shop.

The easy fix, of course, is a sharps container. And I made my very first one - I am ashamed to admit - only a few weeks ago. After decades of making stuff and burning through countless blades, I never made a dedicated disposal container until now. Why not?

I honestly have no idea.

I used a gelato container because it has nice hard sides and a solid lid. (Incidentally, have you tried the Talenti Double Dark Chocolate?!) In the top, I cut a slit about an inch long and just wide enough for a blade or two to slip in. I wrapped the jar in red duct tape to dress it up and labeled it "SHARPS" with a silver Sharpie. That's it. My years of angst over dull blades were finally over - remedied by a straightforward DIY that took me all of one minute.

There are countless easy fixes that I should have done ages ago but, for whatever reason, didn't bother.

Another example is the garage door opener I keep in my shop. I like it handy near my central bench instead of going over to the wall-mounted switch to open the bay door. But I kept misplacing it until I put a magnet on the back. Problem solved.

Same with my multimeter and oscilloscope leads. They cluttered a drawer, always tangled, until I fastened a dowel overhead and draped them across it. Now they're easily within reach and perfectly organized.

That dowel also gave me a place to hang my respirator, which never seemed to have a good home until then. Again, why didn't I do that sooner?

The shelves I wrote about a while back are in the same ballpark of easy fixes. A bit more involved but still easy enough to be a quick fix. And they created the perfect spot for my often-used solvents and fluids like a small can of WD-40, my cutting oils, and a spray bottle of isopropyl alcohol.

The later item - the alcohol - was also a recent quick fix. I had always poured alcohol onto a rag or paper towel before, but the spray bottle makes using this essential solvent all the easier.

Over and over, every time I fix something that nags at me, something that hampers my making, I am relieved to have finally fixed it. And thereafter, I gain pleasure when I use the solution instead of futzing with the problem it once presented.

Granted, there are only so many hours in a day. And when a project at hand takes precedence, one can't always stop what they're doing to fix something else. But over time, the cost of not remedying a problem costs more time than we often care to realize. So making the time to make that fix is almost always worth it. So long as we stop and see the problem for what it is.

That sharps container - I honestly never gave it much thought. I was always in the throes of an engaging build, and the occasional used blade was usually the last thing on my mind. Change in a new one, toss the old one aside, and keep cutting. But as I've matured as a maker, I increasingly look for these roadblocks to fluid creativity and tear them down whenever and wherever I can.

Always a work in progress, streamlining our workflow - our lives - is a never-ending challenge. But each solution made makes life that much better. And taking these dilemmas on makes everything around them seem that much more doable.