When introducing A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, author David Eggers defines the themes, motifs and other literary devices that the reader will encounter in his book. It’s brilliant–not least because it saves his book from the ignominy of being high school AP English fodder. And it’s fun. The reading is that much more entertaining as one notices, indeed, each of the themes promised in the introduction.
In a similar vein, I’m going to go ahead and predict some themes for this spring:
1. Indecision about my future. (If you are affiliated with or employed by any medical clinic in the greater Phoenix Valley region, you are morally obligated to skip this section and resume reading at theme number two. Continuing to read theme number one constitutes a breach of trust and warrants the immediate termination of our friendship.) Do I sacrifice happiness for the sake of my career and future success by returning to work in Arizona? Or, do I throw caution to the wind and choose to be happy (if desperately poor) in a place I love as I try to make my own way?
2. Depravity — a general lust for. I think of myself as a generally clean and decent guy. But some part of my psyche manifests a desperate need to be reckless and irresponsible, to engage in all manner of depravity, licentiousness, hedonism.
Eight months living with my sister and brother-in-law was wonderful and well-enjoyed. But it was also a sustained lie. According to the image I tried so eagerly to project: I don’t drink (to excess), I don’t smoke, I don’t swear, I don’t fuck, I don’t get fucked up. I’ve cultivated an image of myself as a responsible young adult, as ambitious, hard-working, generally dependable, and ready for the working world. I’m gregarious and social. I like people. I clean up after myself. I keep myself need, tidy, clean and hygienic. Etc.
But … these things, sadly, are all a lie. That person isn’t me.
Truth me told, I’m … an absolute and unrepentant slob (hedonist). I like clean environments, but left to my own devices: I’d live in filth. My dirty socks would cover crumb-crusted floors, dishes overflowing in the greasy kitchen. I’d blare music at all hours of the day and night. I’d drink beer for breakfast, skip lunch, and spend four hours cooking every day with a glass of wine in one hand.
I’m lazy, in a sense that Edward Abbey would admire. I’d an absolute hedonist, with a penchant for quality. I’m fun-loving, to the point of preferring a constant, debauched haze over any sort of solid and productive reality. I despise tedium: folding laundry, especially, and making my bed.
Depraved, debauched–true words, but with such ugly connotations.
Dionysian might be a better adjective. I’m not godless–I worship Bacchus. I’m not loveless–I love Bridger Bowl. I’m not without aspirations–I aspire to admire Bertolt Brecht (though I don’t). (I’m not clever–but I’m clever with banal alliterations.)
In any case, I digress. I simply expect depravity to be a theme this spring as I trend back toward my natural self.
3. Hunger. I’ve been hungry for months. Insatiably hungry. I ate poorly in Scottsdale. Go figure–I’m a lactose intolerant vegetarian. Hunger, however, I expect I can overcome.
4. Social skills (or skillz, if you prefer)! I’ve concluded that I have poor social skills. I’m a misanthrope a heart. No, I was a misanthrope–my view of humanity is far more benevolent now. Which leaves me simply as a misfit, a social recluse. I’ve never much liked people, never gotten on well with strangers–and never aspired to until now.
But now … all that changes. Just you wait and see! I’m going to learn to like people. To enjoy the company of strangers. To make new friends, and cultivate old friendships. To be outgoing and gregarious.
I’m choosing, now, to like people, in general, rather than dislike (as I have in the past). I hope that this new-found (or forged, rather) positivity, combined with a wavering commitment to not avoid social interaction will put me well on my way toward being socially well-adjusted (rather than socially awkward). We’ll see. =)
