I've been cleaning all day. Well, no. "Cleaning" is not the word for it. "Half-assedly organizing" works better. I emptied the junk drawer and then put everything back in, and it barely looks better than when I started, but eh. Now I'm sifting through the mountain of "important" papers in my room, trying to at least put them in stacks. Half of them I don't know why I'm keeping, but my mother taught me to keep most of them, and I'm afraid that I'll throw them away and then the Secret Service will knock on my door and say, "Ma'am, we've just gotten word that you recently threw away a bank statement from 2003. We're going to have to perform a full body cavity search."
I'd rather just avoid that situation.
There's also a small foam t-shirt (about as big as my hand) bearing the words "Burlington Youth Soccer Club." This, I have a problem throwing away because it's pretty skookum foam, and someone, somewhere in some kind of small alternate universe, might have a need for a foam t-shirt advertising youth soccer. If any of you are wondering where I got this skookum, interesting, but UTTERLY DEVOID OF PURPOSE little foam t-shirt, some kids were handing them out at the parade a couple weeks ago.
I am a packrat, okay? As soon as I throw things away, I discover something I could have used them for. This almost happened when I cut the hard, cardboardy, Madonna-esque cups from the chest of my bathing suit a few years ago. My friends kept telling me to throw them away, what use are they, and then I had an assignment for my sculpture class and was able to use one of the cups as the body of my Kokopelli statue. So NYEH, it's ART.
I hated that class. The teacher didn't like me, probably because I had no "vision," but my friend Mel (whom I love dearly and who has never expressed an interest in art) passed with flying colors and was loved by the teacher, because she could come up with explanations for her stuff like, "I made this out of sticks, because sticks remind me of when I was young and went with the people of my tribe to collect sticks in the woods, and my grandmother told me a story about leaves and how Nature is our Mother. So I call this statue of sticks, 'Grandma.' " Whereas my explanations were more along the lines of, "I found this acorn cap, and I thought it was cute, so I made it Kokopelli's eye. Then I painted it with nail polish."
I still don't know what to do with this t-shirt. When Keely gets home, she'll sigh and glare at me and say, "THROW IT AWAY!" To which I might reply, "HA! I ALREADY DID!" or "NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME, IT'S MINE FOREVER."
I'm hungry. Oooh, and it's lunchtime. Oh, it's those damn mashed potato clouds. And it's really windy out there today. Incredibly, I'm not soaked with sweat, as we finally have a cold front. I've had the windows open all day, and I just closed them because I thought it was starting to rain, but maybe not. I'll have to look into it.
And I'm still hungry.