It’s a rainy Friday, which is perfect because it’s matching my mood. See, today is the kids’ last day of school before the loooonnng holiday break. Now of course I don’t get two weeks off from work. And I’m fine with that. Okay, thrilled. And I’m not jealous that my family is off while I’m working my considerable butt off. It’s just…now they’ll all get that much more settled in. To my house. For example, when I get home from work my daughter will now be so immersed in my favorite chair that there won’t be a chance in hell that I’ll get to use it. Ever. Not for those two weeks. And I can’t guilt her into moving by saying, “Don’t you have homework to do?” Because she doesn’t. Dammit! And my son who only grunts these days will have sewn the TV remote to his sleeve, so forget watching MY shows.
Then of course there is my lovely wife (she’s a school teacher so she’s off as well — for THREE weeks!) who will be in clean/purge mode, which means she’ll be going through my stuff without me. This is my nightmare. I’ve been clear since the day we met: Never throw any of my stuff away without checking with me first. To be fair, she has honored this. So I’m not worried that she’ll throw away my ripped 23-year-old T-shirt (that is way too tight on me, but is nostalgic because it bears the name of the bar where I first passed out) while I’m at work. What concerns me is how tiring it’s going to be fighting over every item she wants to get rid of.
Do you know how exhausting it is trying to justify keeping a college essay I wrote over 20 years ago? It wasn’t even a great essay. I got a C+/B-. But that essay reminds me of sitting next to Carla Lampori in American History and how she smelled sooooo good. Now of course I can’t tell my wife that’s the reason, so now I have to come up with something else and there’s where the exhaustion comes into play. I’m not quick on my feet. I say, “Ummmmmmmm” a lot when my wife asks me, well, anything. So when she calmly begs to throw out something I haven’t looked at or even thought of in years, it’s a struggle to come up with a reason not to that doesn’t make me look like a complete idiot.
So I end up giving in more than not. And in my rare lucid, non-OCD moments, I realize it’s a good thing. Because otherwise we’d never throw out anything and then where would I put my new crap that I’m accumulating? And…those are the thoughts I have to start this cheerful holiday season. Ho ho ho.