NASCAR fever has descended on Charlotte, and coupled with Memorial Day weekend, where an estimated 1.5 million people are expected to hit the state roads, I’m fairly certain I’m staying the hell away from the Speedway and pavement in general. Instead, I’d be wise to spend my extra day on some serious cleaning, a vow I’ve often repeated, but have yet to fully execute.
When I looked around my townhouse yesterday, my frank assessment was it appeared as if somebody had just moved in. There’s some clutter, sure, like the computer parts strewn over the coffee table, but by and large there are moving boxes stacked neatly in the oddest places. These towers are all about four boxes high, and there’s one in the corner of the dining room, another in the living room, and yet another near the front door.
The path to total cleanliness will call for computers to be built, Goodwill runs to be made, furniture to be moved and vacuumed, and goods to be peddled on eBay, complete with all the attendant photographing, writing, and driving to the post office. eBay is honestly the most daunting of all these tasks. But it’s got to be done. The last time I committed to a weekend of decluttering, I set out to complete one of these things. Nothing happened. This weekend, I’m going to attempt to do it all and hope for better results.
This might be turning into an annual refrain, but I damn near forgot to renew our hosting service again, with only two days left on the current lease. That’s what it is, after all–rent that is levied yearly so we may continue to occupy our corner of the Internet. Having just completed the checkout process–which, if you’re familiar with GoDaddy, is a harrowing ordeal fraught with cross-selling up the ass–I feel assaulted. And nostalgic! That’s the important part.
I’ve mentioned to you why I update this site twice a week: to keep my brain in shape. While that’s a big reason for why I persist, it’s not the only reason. I also write because I loathe the specter of a blank page and all the dread that comes with finding that first sentence. For me, the creative process is like wandering in a forest at dusk, desperately searching for two, three perfect pieces of kindling to combine and ignite.
Sometimes this kindling is readily at hand, especially when you’re genuinely interested in something. Inspiration follows freely, you ride hot, and the words flow on their own accord. Other times, you find yourself in a cold spell, and I’ve been firmly in this camp recently. But even then, I’d like to think there’s something noble about the effort made. Perhaps I’m still growing, somehow, simply by grinding it out. In dips like these, I’m not gunning for the gold–the ribbon for participation will do just fine.
There’s always a moment, roughly one to two seconds long, when I will click on the local 5-day forecast and hope for terrible weather–the overcast, rainy affairs that would justify some power napping or gaming. I’ve been thoroughly disappointed in this regard, though, with a recent rash of warm, sunny days that demand physical activity. For me, this doesn’t translate into a drive to the beach, or team sports of any stripe. No, it means golf, where people engage in the collective act of solitary suffering.
My own suffering has decreased somewhat. You’ll recall a recent breakthrough, wherein a reliable swing availed itself to me. With my first full round just around the corner, some additional range time is in order for this weekend, and I’m dreading the possibility of reaching into my golf bag and discovering, much to my dismay, that I’ve lost this newfound skill.
But let’s assume my swing is intact. There is still the issue of putting. I remember when I briefly tasted proficiency, a few months ago. Now, I’m having trouble reclaiming any of the secret sauce. I will watch in wonder as peers sink them from what seems like miles away, no doubt aided by witchcraft or other unholy pacts. Meanwhile, I’m adrift without a rudder, and it feels like I’m wielding a dowsing rod instead of a putter, desperately searching not for water, but competency.