When I discovered it was Memorial Day weekend on Wednesday, I vowed to spend a portion of the weekend cleaning Supergenius HQ. Clearly, I had no plans for the weekend and while that made me feel a little bad about myself last night I’ve since come to realize that I will be socializing with humans for the next four or five weekend in a row. That makes me kind of cranky because I’m the Goldilocks of social engagements.
So as I’ve mentioned on at least 137 occasions, I hate cleaning and mostly live in squalor. Whatever, I’m fine with that for the most part. But next week I’m hosting Rock & Roll Bookclub and while the level of cleaning I vowed to do is so much overkill for R&RBC I still kind of wanted to do it. Like clean everything — The Loft, the guest bedroom, even, maybe, my own bedroom.
Also, write. That’s what else I’m doing this weekend.
So far I’ve done very little of both things. I went upstairs in earnest around 10:30 this morning and instead of cleaning I mostly just dug through old shit and took pictures of it — texting & tweeting some of them to friends. If I was going down memory lane, I was taking the Internet and everyone else I knew down with me.
Of course I found gobs of long forgotten things — concert tickets from 1997, old birthday cards, a syllabus from a 2003 writing class, and a 14-year-old receipt for a my copy of Infinite Jest purchased for me by a red-haired boy I adored.
While digging through a binder filled with embarrassing poetry and short stories I found a few old papers that demonstrated that even now on the verge 42, I’m pretty much the same person I’ve always been. I’ll let you be the judge based on topic alone.
And then there was this from Dale Gregory, one of my Loft instructors. Something I really needed to read today even though I didn’t realize it until I found it.