Haiku tomorrow. Homework today.
From Miss Papuga:
Everyone has at least one “Junk Drawer” in their home where errant trinkets, broken bits of something, receipts, dodads, and whatnots find a home. Sometimes these things are tossed or shoved in the drawer because there’s no where else to put them. Sometimes they’re put there because you don’t want to lose whatever it is you’re stashing away, or you don’t want to forget it. Other times you want to keep it, but have no where in particular to put it. In any event, the items all share something–they’re important in some way to the owner of the drawer. They’re pieces of memories stashed away.
This week I want you to tell me who this woman is by what is in her “Junk Drawer.” Imagine that she went rifling through that drawer in a last ditch panic looking for her misplaced keys the morning this picture was taken, and she, instead, found something she had forgotten about. What was it that she found that is making her smile like that and changed her mood 180 degrees? (I assume I don’t have to say this, but, “and why”)
When she found it, she stopped and stared for a full minute before pulling it out from under the screwdriver and the pile of change. It was so long ago, she thought. She was right. it had been years since she had gotten it. Ages since she had needed it. An eternity since she had worn it around her neck so she could clutch on the ride home. It had given her strength then and she felt a little sad to see it lying, discarded and forgotten, in drawer of random things she never opened.
She pulled it out of the drawer and held it in her hand like a fragile butterfly. She read the words "One day at a time. One year." and ran her fingers across the engraved letters. It brought back memories of hard nights. Sitting at her table shaking as she stared at a bottle of vodka and clutched her one year chip. Pouring the bottle down the drain and going to bed, promising herself tomorrow would be better. Nights at bars with friends trying to explain that she didn't feel like drinking tonight and that she would be happy to drive them home. Then going into the bathroom and crying because the temptation was so strong. But all that time her 1 year chip lay against her chest, under her shirt as a reminder of all she had gone through. That was 4 years ago. She had stayed clean and sober through everything and remained that way.
She smiled to herself and laid the small chip back with all the other odds and ends. She would never go back there, never be that person again. She was someone else now. She was free.