I got a graham cracker from the break room just now, and while I was walking out of the room, a little piece of the cracker fell on the floor. I didn't pick it up. Normally I would. This time, I just didn't. I resisted the urge. I did glance back at it lying there in the middle of the floor, in a highly foot-trafficked area, but continued walking. I littered. Strangely, or not so strangely, I feel satisfied.