If the headline reminds you of the song with many of the same words and definitely the same syllables, that's my intent. But the emphasis is currently on deleting, and not on believing. It's coming down to the closing days of my daughter's high school senior year, which means her 12 years plus of public education will cease. She says it's surreal because she has always gone back to school in August, and I agree with her. The dog days are gone, as Flo sings so magnificently. I join in.
I find myself wanting to throw so much away. I love to delete, whether on my computer or laptop. In the garage I find myself grabbing armfulls of empyt shoe boxes and smashing them by stomping on them, one by one, and hurling them into the recycling bin. I look in my closet and pull out faded shirts and start a pile on the bed, then get a shopping bag and start filling it full for the next donation day on our street, only a week away, I've got to get going! I look in my purse for a pen and find stubby pencils and cough drop wrappers and begin to clean it out, tossing lots of it straight into the wastebasket. I find old newsletters from BookPassage and Kepler's and Yoga Journal articles on wisdom that I funnel directly into the paper recycle box. I look at the files in my office to seek out the unused and untouched. Several piles qualifiy. Next up?
Meanwhile I relish reading hard-hitting articles, the piece in Rolling Stone on The People vs. Goldman Sachs by Matt Taibbi, that's what I want, a great journalist telling it like it is, those absolute jerks sticking it to us, lying to Congress, you must read it, and enjoy the cartoon with the caption "Lying Sachs," a brilliant caption that says it without saying it. I'm either laughing hysterically or finding myself on the verge of tears watching a baby duck in a pond at the library. I think I'm in the season of burning everything away that is unnecessary, I'm going to be one of those smiling odd women who either look wise, or like they're listening to Jimmy Fallon on an invisible Nano. He is one funny guy, doing impressions of impression-meister Robin Williams and just about anyone. What I'm saying is that I want to delete, and toss, and burn away, and start anew with so much less around. And why is that? Because I'm moving, and I don't want to take the old, slimmed items with me to the calm, clean, new place. No old crap stained by compromimsed circumstances I had to sign off on until this day of reckoning when I can shove it all into recyclable bags to be taken away. Would I like to burn all of it in a Lord of the Flies-style event in the back yard? Yes!! Would the neighbors call the cops? Yes!!! Would the balsa-wood rental house go up in flames along with the junk if I did have said bonfire of the inanities? Double check.
My thirst for deleting and tossing and junking is unquenchable for the moment. For the day. For the month. Once I've moved, it will all be about my new disorientation, my adjustment to living in a home with stairs to the second story, my re-adjustment back to a kitchen with a gas stove, and a chance to actually cook at home once again, always a good thing during a recession. Safeway features organic food these days, with the use of the Club Card, and no, I don't need to pay upwards of $5 a pound for apples. We eat three a day! Minmum. But I digress. Don't stop deleting, clean out all the stuff you haven't been reading. Then go outside and dance, or tell someone a great story that makes you both laugh. Or cry. Either or both. Give it away.