I’m a destester of clutter to the point that I tend to throw things away that I end up needing later, so I was surprised to find myself fishing a peanut can out of our recycling bag this week and setting it possessively on the kitchen counter, like someone who grew up in the Depression. In my defense, it’s not just any peanut can. It’s really nice, big, wide vintagy-looking can with a solid lid. That can has infinite possibilities. It could hold screws or rubber bands or coffee beans or embroidery thread. It could be used as a grease can or a spider trap. I could fill it with marbles or hard candy or make it into a planter. It would be an absolute shame to let a fat, shiny vintagy can just go to waste. It’s been sitting there for over a week now, but I’m undaunted. Its purpose shall be revealed in time and I will ensure that its mission is fulfilled. In the meantime, I’m watching myself for further signs of incipient hoarder-dom in case it’s a gateway can and I’m just this side of making a fort in our living room out of newspapers and toilet paper rolls. This is how it starts, folks. You rescue one can and the next thing you know there’s a camera crew at your house and a nice lady is asking you to choose which of those six hundred Gatorade bottles you can bear to part with.
I’ve been blogging on this site since 2008. (I have a limited reserve of consistency, and what I do have I use up on this blog and the gym.) Lately I’ve been kicking around the idea of putting together a book of essays from some of my posts, but there is a huge amount of material to comb through and I don’t know if it would be interesting to anyone. I don’t know if my yammering about nonsense and complaining about the shoddy state of retail is enough to warrant an entire book. Also, it seems a little grandiose, as though I think that what I have to say is so riveting that it all needs to go into book so that the whole world may have easy access to all of my amazing thoughts. (This attitude is probably why I never gained much traction as a writer.) Nonetheless, I’m still considering this book thing. There are certain Big Themes that have emerged over time that I could work with. Or I could just go full fluff and make the entire book about my exploits in Stardew Valley. Stranger things have sold.
I was touched with bag envy recently at the gym. This blonde Amazon was in there doing insane dead-lifts, and she had this big showy pink ultra-feminine gym bag filled with accessories. I was quite taken with this bag, (not to mention how much weight she was lifting) and I became convinced that a showy pink gym bag is a must should I continue to make progress. I’ve since changed my mind on the pink, but I am going to go gym-bag shopping online soon. I now have a barbell cushion for the squat rack, so I need a bag to transport it in. A quick glance online so far has not yielded any ultra-feminine looking gym bags, but I did find a leopard-print one, and strangely, one with elaborately-costumed elephants.
I’ll post a pic of what I finally land on. (I know you are all waiting with baited breath.) In the meantime, enjoy this bit of fluff from wholesome Midwest comedian Trey Kennedy making fun of art majors like myself.