I start tearing my room apart today. Not the spare room; not the living room; not
the den; not my son's room, and not the basemen, all of which should be priority. My room.
Apart. In pieces. A shambles.
Of course, if you've seen my room you would know it is pretty messy most
of the time anyway, so what's the big deal, right?
I rearrange the television, which doesn't sound like a big
deal except it means moving furniture and piling tons if sweatshirts on my
bed. I have more sweatshirts than a
clothing store. My problem is that I
have acquired some on my own, and I have shanghaied several from the piles of
clothes my kids are donating because they've outgrown the stuff. This latter reason is my downfall. It is how I've managed to acquire multiple
lacrosse team sweatshirts and multiple Bay State Games jackets.
I realize that if I ever intend to sleep, I need to take the
multiple piles of sweats that litter the bed and carefully move them: sweatshirts, hooded sweatshirts, zipper
sweatshirts, fleeces, zipper fleeces, and sweatpants. Moving all of this clothing causes me to see the tops of the bureaus for the first time in several
years. Once the dust has resettled, I am
shocked that the bureaus are blue. I
mean, I suppose I knew that fact since I painted them, but it shocks me that the color hasn't faded and irritates
me that I have to dust to find out this coveted piece of information. I thought for
sure I had enough stuff piled up to prevent any dust from ever hitting the
surfaces of those pieces of furniture, anyway.
I now have a giant sweatshirt maze in my room. It's not a true-to-scale maze. As it is, small
children and dwarfs and midgets and vertically-challenged people might
disappear into the sweatshirt maze, vanishing as if they are socks
in a dryer.
The bad news is that I need to navigate past these clean,
warm clothes to get to my sort-of clean, ice cold bed (the air conditioner is
on). The good news is the big job, the
one involving tearing the room to workable pieces and putting it back together,
had already been broached. There's
nothing to do now but procrastinate with the remainder of the job … and watch television. Damn good thing I moved the TV to where I can
actually see it.
