This week, I purged. I’m still in the process of purging, actually. It’s a glorious feeling, getting rid of things. Cleansing. Any other year, I would be excited to get everything organized before the start of the school year, so that I could feel mentally ready to go and energized by the idea of a clean slate. After getting the house in order, I would spend days at the school, reorganizing my classroom, updating bulletin boards and room arrangement, and pouring over old lessons and units while I wrote new ones. The preparation is half the fun! Okay, not half. About a quarter of it. But for me, lesson planning is a creative process, and I love it.
But this year, I am dreading everything. I don’t even know what role I’ll be playing yet or how I’ll be playing it. What with the staff restructuring, the new district approach to ELA and AIS, and the hybrid learning model my neurologist doesn’t want me partaking in, I don’t know what I’ll be teaching, to whom I’ll be teaching it, or how I’ll be teaching it.
Alas, at least I’m getting stuff at home in order (as I type this, I sit at my desk in a newly rearranged office area upstairs next to freshly organized bookshelves).
Sunday
I spent most of the day going through old keepsakes. For someone who hates clutter, I keep way too much shit. Letters and notes I think are understandable, but did I really need to keep the Haagen-dazs add with the bride deciding to treat herself to a pint because they couldn’t start without her? (The answer is yes. Because our Dean of Students gave that to me right before prom; he said it reminded him of me).
But I took a break and went for a run. When I came back, I decided to catch my breath on one of the chairs in the backyard. Apparently you can’t sit for more than two minutes without the pigeons and squirrels believing it’s snack time.
Monday
Aung stopped by. We sat on the porch after this guy left and discussed the coming semester. He’s going to take the year off. The only thing that motivates him to return every year is soccer. Without a season to look forward to this year, he’d prefer to wait to return. I can’t blame him; it’s his senior year. He deserves his final collegiate season.
Tuesday
This is Leroy. After I finished organizing all the keepsakes that could fit nicely in page protectors in a binder or two, I had to turn my attention to the rest of my keepsakes bin. Leroy was given to me by my brother a shit ton of years ago. Steven used to buy me a special candle every Christmas. Leroy used to hold a crystal ball in his hands, but as the years went by, his full waxy figure diminished some, and he could no longer grip it. But he kept right on smiling.
My parents said, “Just throw it out. Steve won’t care.” They doubted he’d even remember this particular one. But it was the first one he bought me, and when I text him this picture he said, “Oh wow I forgot all about that guy… Maybe burn the candle for a proper send off? I always liked that creature.” And I was touched by the notion of a proper goodbye. So burn it, I did. (I also played with the wax a bit while it burned because I am, apparently, twelve years old).
Wednesday
These are the remnants of the keepsakes (excluding the book — that’s just there to keep the posters from rolling back up). I do not know what to do with them. These two posters were with me all through college! And the coffin wood box? That sucker’s a limited edition and contains a ceramic Day of the Dead mask designed by one of the band members (Frank Iero). I just looked… peeps are making like $400 selling those online.
Added bonus: I have a complete set of first edition Umbrella Academy comics from 2007 and 2008 stored safely in that box.
But maybe I can get rid of the posters…
Thursday
I unrolled my recently delivered new living room rug. The cats were immediately taken with it. They went berserk playing all over it while we were trying to straighten it out and get it into position. And about four hours later, when all was settled, Sammy ran from across the house just so he could throw up on it!
Friday
As I’ve previously mentioned, you cannot spend any time in or near the backyard, without critters approaching you with cute little faces that say, “feed me, pleeeeeaase!”
Saturday
My sweet Bailey Boo. She got TWO presents out of my keepsakes purge. One was a stuffed animal which she promptly ripped to shreds. The second was a small soccer ball meant to help players develop foot skills. It was signed by Tony DiCicco, Janusz Michallik, and other SoccerPlus bigwigs and counselors. I regret — just a little bit — giving it to her. But she loves it, and the signatures were all faded. And it was time.