These are the conversations I have with myself because I live alone, which has resulted in the best kind of loneliness: the kind that forces me to anthropomorphize my bathroom trash can.
It's by a company called "simplehuman," which is simple household things done well (mine has an effective foot pedal -- so rarely do those things work, which is a pet peeve of mine on par with running out of q-tips, but not nearly as irritating as running out of toilet paper -- and a removable basket for ease of emptying).
In American fashion, it also has the brand name written on the top: "simplehuman," like it's a message for me. It comes across as judgmental when I read that phrase out loud in my head, as though the trash can is telling me, sympathetically, sighing, "Oh, you simple human."
Some days I agree, and some days I tell it to fuck off.