I feel compelled to post. But I really don’t have anything witty, snarky, or brilliant to say. I just feel compelled to post. Maybe it is just to say hello.
I cleaned out my desk yesterday.
Let me back up a bit by saying that my husband and I are going through an “organizing” phase. We have come to the realization that we are,
slobs, ahem, not very organized. And we should be. We are librarians, dammit. So we have been checking out dorky “how to organize” videotapes from the library and learning a thing or two. We started with his office a couple of weeks ago. And, I am proud to say, it looks good. The books are even sorted by genre. You know you’re impressed with that.
So the next thing on my list was my desk. It’s has become a black hole. For several years I have shoved things in there. Things that I don’t want to deal with at the moment. I took everything out of it and put my things into categories. Some of the stuff I threw away. I don’t think I need the reciept for the pair of Gap Jeans I bought five years ago anymore.
But I did find some treasures. I found an old poem scratched out on a pad of paper that I almost threw away. The poem was entitled “Silicon Valley” and is about living in the Bay Area and having to struggle there while others were becoming rich. I found some old Moleskine Diary entries, torn out of an old mini Moleskine that I gave to my husband. They took me back in time a few years when I was unhappily working in a job that I hated. And then I found a stack of papers from when I was in college. One of the papers was written when I was in my “The Films of John Carpenter” class. It is a decontruction of the film, “Big Trouble in Little China.” Some other papers were from a class called, “Literature of the Asian Diaspora” (or something like that). The professor had an interesting idea. Each week we were to write a page and a half on a topic that related to the weekly novel we were supposed to read. And then we were to write a page and a half on our reaction to the novel. Then we were partnered up and our partner would read our paper and comment on it. Then our partner would turn it in to our professor. It was all very casual. I don’t think she even graded these mini papers. It was really for our own benefit. Of course at the time I was probably freaked out about getting the thing done. But as I read through these pages I could see that I was working something out through the writing. It was helping me to understand who I was and where I came from. It was interesting to read who I was seven years ago compared to who I am today.
Maybe that is what I am trying to do with this post, too. I feel compelled to write. Maybe I am trying to work something out.