By the time you read this column, I’ll have completely forgotten the material it contains. This is because I wrote it six days early. If you need a more specific time, I’ll embarrass myself further and tell you this: I’m drafting it on a Friday night. Yes, the Weekend Homework Maven is a lonely sort, in the depths of the truest possible solitude. It’s been an interesting ride so far, and it’s only 10:30 p.m.
When you’re alone in your room, a lot more things start seeming like a good idea. I am currently re-charging all my assorted technologies – iPod in its cradle, cell phone with its plug, Palm Pilot with a USB port, digital camera battery in the wall outlet, laptop with its power cord – and watching them happily as they blink and beep a little chorus of regeneration. In addition, I’ve filled out two summer job applications, taped some fallen posters back up on the wall, feng shui’d my bookshelf, knitted a new pair of socks, and written a TKS column with exactly two lies in it thus far. See if you can find them. I’ve created a scavenger hunt!
While my tea is brewing over in the electric kettle, allow me to elaborate on being boring. You may start making some assumptions about me; for instance, that I fear social interaction on a large scale or that I hide my anxieties behind a cloak of stony indifference. Both assumptions are untrue! I am a social sort, usually. I know and love the Knox cast of characters as much as any other. This week, however, was something of a Perfect Storm. Flunk Day, a bit of a cold coming on, Flunk Day, school days littered with professor conferences, Flunk Day…I will no doubt be asleep by midnight. This sense of inevitability has given me a lot of time to think
The conclusion of all this contemplation? Being the dullard is not a failing. There is an idiosyncrasy for each of us to love in this occasional, voluntary confinement. We all find the charm in, say, the clock numbers as they wipe away 11:59 to leave us with the blank-looking 12:00. We can all agree on the sound of a fan, the look of the streetlamps on grass from our windows. The squishability of a carefully chosen Memory Foam mattress pad. The satisfaction of finishing a chapter in anything with binding and a well-vacuumed floor. It goes on, all the way till the minty sting of teeth thoroughly brushed and the way our heads all fall back onto their pillows after what we can (hopefully) deem a productive day.
I think we can all agree, also, that I just got intensely sentimental on all of you. The point is, I don’t think there’s any shame to be had in spending an evening – weekend or not – confirming the odds and ends of humanity and how we all fit in.
Not to mention the fact that Flunk Day was roughly three weekends crammed together. I mean, what party could compete with a Velcro Wall? That simply isn’t fair.