The Delicate Beauty of the Folded Towel

I caught myself folding one of my dishtowels this afternoon—after using it only once! I am not used to such timely attention to detail. You see, I am a recovering slob.

Please be gentle. My parents are not to blame. Suffice it to say that I prioritized others things—reading, building airplane models, smoking weed, and pleasuring myself—over making the bed, emptying the laundry basket, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, and other housekeeping wastes of time.

I realize full well I have just disqualified myself for marriage or cohabitation with these revelations. I make them to clear my conscience and maybe, just maybe, help another recovering slob.

My yen for reading does not help. There is something soothing about a pile of books, precariously stacked like those rocks by the creekside that are so popular on Facebook.

A lifetime of writing, combined with a compulsion to save every single draft no matter how badly formed, has left me with a paper trial thick enough for Robert Mueller.

I look at my sink. Yes, it has dirty dishes, but they have sat for less than a day. For a guy who scheduled washings on the scale of geologic time, this is a miracle.

What is happening? I have undergone many changes this past year, but this one is the most alarming. Perhaps it is a side effect of a new medication, or the emerging of OCD. Maybe it’s early senility. Or maybe I just got tired of filing environmental impact statements for my sink.

Now I am folding towels after single uses. I hardly recognize myself.

Comes the still, small voice. I am changing you, my child. If you truly seek a girlfriend, you must accept domestication. It is for your own good.

Well, okay, if it will keep me in the good graces of a future love. Accept and adapt, a wise friend always told me. Remain teachable.

All well and good… but I yearn for the old me. The guy who regarded shower gook as an experiment in discovering new species. The guy who, to badly mix metaphors, was tone-deaf to the smell of his apartment.

Change is necessary. But not so fast, okay?


Gratitude x 10 (2013)

Today is my 59th birthday, one day before Thanksgiving. I believe in the spiritual principle of gratitude, so here goes…

I am grateful for…

1. My clean and serene (well serene is optional some days) time, without which any gratitudes would be hollow.

2. A nice apartment within my budget.

3. A live and beating heart. (Long may it wave!)

4. My freedom.

5. My extended family (Dad, brother, and Sis)

6. My friends on Facebook and Shutterchance.

7. My bundle of cat love, Miss Kai.

8. My writing ability.

9. My recently completed cooking class that slowly unfolds new horizons beyond store-bought (and slightly radioactive) mac and cheese.

10. My small-but-powerful church.

I challenge all who read this to make their own gratitude list. Odds are you will feel better. Enjoy your turkey/terducken/tofu Day!

What I am grateful for (2013)

To lift my mood I make gratitude lists, like so:

1.  I am alive and mostly sane.

2. I am clean.

3. My cat did her tail-flips again.

4. I went outside this morning and it was actually chilly.

5. The shadows are growing longer. Elongated shadows make you look slim.

6. I feel a little freer than I did earlier in the week.

7. I had a little Dr. Pepper left over from yesterday. Dr. Pepper is my liquid vice.

8. My computer still works. (It is getting sluggish, though.)

9. I have money in the bank and food in the larder.