I thought long and hard about what to focus on this week. And then I thought about it some more. And then I wrote a bunch of stuff I hated. And then I reread all of the things I didn’t like thinking ‘it couldn’t have been THAT bad’. It was. Like garbage carcass crumbles bad. And then I decided that I was going to write something hilarious and light hearted that would lift everyone’s spirits. And then I stared at a white screen for over an hour. And then I gave myself a pep talk to get the creativity flowing which led me to organizing every drawer in my apartment while listening to the Goo Goo Dolls. Every drawer.
During this process, I realized that I keep things around much longer than I probably should. I’m not a hoarder by any means, but I’m most certainly ridiculous and should honestly have a panel to help me make decisions because my judgement cannot be trusted. I’m not exactly sure when I believe carmel colored bell bottom corduroys are going to make a comeback but I’ve held onto that belief since 2004. Don’t ever tell me I’m not a woman of faith who believes in miracles and magic. And then there was a lot of ‘I’ll fit into that again’ nonsense. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about having goals but unless the dairy industry goes out of business or becomes truffle-like expensive, I’m probably not going to fit into skirts I wore in the 8th grade again. Yet I hold on to them because somewhere deep in my nutty professor mind underneath a pile of confetti, glow sticks, and silly string I believe that letting them go means I’ve somehow, in the slightest tiniest percentage of a way, given up on myself. Someone help me.
So then I took a shower and belted Lady Gaga’s new album like I was auditioning for the Super Bowl Halftime Show and forgot to shave one of my legs entirely. So fresh and so clean, I now had a clear mind to write. And then I got distracted by my refrigerator and did that thing where you keep opening and closing it every other minute expecting to see Zuul or be inspired or like all of a sudden grandma’s homemade spaghetti is going to appear. None of these things happened. It’s hard to be inspired by a two week old lemon and brussel sprouts. So then I sat back down ready for hilarious perfection to come oozing through my fingers when the sound of a wood saw came screeching into my apartment. It’s extremely difficult to think of anything but ‘I WILL KILL EVERYHING!’ when power tools are being used within a 20 foot radius of you and aren’t being used to improve your personal situation. It got even more cool when my lights started flickering and then I thought ‘God, is that you?’ It wasn’t. Or maybe it was but I don’t know Morse code.
As my lights started dancing to the beat of the power tools outside I realized they were using my outlet so I had to deal with that. I knew I was in the right but I also felt like that old cranky neighbor who takes out her lack of a social life and all of her family issues on everyone else. The power saw finally stopped ripping into my cerebellum and 6 dudes just stared at me like I had ruined Christmas. I retreated back into my apartment, got myself a giant glass of water and sat down. Let’s do this. Just as I was about to type my first word, they found another outlet.
I decide I’m going to blare music really loud so I can’t hear the circus of hammering, chipping, sawing, and drilling. Alright, here we go. Instead of writing, however, I decided to figure out the meaning of every single song that played. And then I wondered what kind of music Obama listens to when he’s drunk, which led me to ponder the question- how many times has he been drunk in the last 8 years? And then I started thinking about politics and the election and what kind of statue Trump is gonna plop on the White House lawn. I tried to imagine how many red ties he owns and if Billy Bush is going to become Secretary of State. Another Bush. I wonder what Dave Chapelle is going to say about all of this on SNL this weekend.
And then I wondered what it was like to be an American back in the 1500s and how strange it was that men wore white wigs and tights. And then I decided that I would have been a fantastic addition to the Victorian Age but that I would have been too cranky and hot without AC dressed in all of those layers. No thank you. I wondered if I had been raised in that era if I would have lived upstairs or downstairs. Probably downstairs. I thought of all of the phases and changes America has been through, the good and the bad. There is a lot of animosity in the air like I haven’t felt before and on one hand it’s good because people are finally opening their eyes but on the other it’s creating a huge divide that I fear cannot be sewn back together.
And then I had to get ready to go and realized I had written nothing and Snow Patrol’s Chasing Cars was playing and got a tiny bit of a shiver. Dad, was that you? And then I thought of my circle and the people I hold close and how we’ve been through so much together and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for them. Nothing. We are a tiny army and when I’m with them, I feel invincible. We’re all going to be okay. I cannot let go of the optimism I have left. I believe in better days and that they are on the horizon. As Captain Jack Sparrow would say, Now bring me that horizon.
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