Trying to Be Useful

I.

Last week, my mom came over to have us repair something. She had rediscovered a wooden motorcycle figure in her basement (which she took from an ex-boyfriend that she had eight years ago), and upon finding it, she decided she should give it to one of her coworkers because her son collects motorcycles. (The boy is only two years old, so I don’t see how he could appreciate or care about such an item, but whatever.)

Seeing how I seem to be the glue-all-the-broken-items-that-break during the Christmas season, my mom naturally showed me this motorcycle of hers. The riser kept moving up and down when it should only be moving side-to-side. But most importantly, both brake cables were detached from the bike. My mom showed me the places where the cables were supposed to attach to the front fork, and then she promised to pick it up whenever she would return sometime the following week.

(And if you were impressed about all my motorcycle terminology, don’t be. I looked at diagrams to help me out while I was writing this.)

II.

For the past two weeks, I have been on fire – for being motivated and productive, that is. I’m sure it’s not too unusual at this time of the year. After all, the year is still brand new. But lately, I’ve been doing quite a bit of cooking. (Granted, I also cooked often while my brother came home for his Christmas break. I have this tendency to make large meals, so I feel less bad about myself when there’s another person around to eat.) I also read one complete book and one manuscript. (But, alas, my internship is drawing to an end now.) Additionally, I’ve been trying to get myself on a better sleeping schedule.

But what really has me going lately is that I have an itch to clean and declutter ALL. THE. THINGS. Everywhere I look around the house, I just want to attack it. I feel like I’m that one character in Finding Nemo. You know which one I’m talking about. (Hint: His name is Jacques.)

I have this strong urge to pick everything up and throw it out. Get rid of all the random piles and junk lying around once and for all. But my dad would get mad if I did that, so I can’t be so impulsive.

My latest project is the library. I cleared out one of the desktops, organizing all the scattered papers into a brand new accordion binder. Placed the essential office items off to the side of the desk (like a stapler, a multitude of pens in a holder, and a calendar). Bought two small shelves to hang above the desktop computer. (Punching holes into the previously flawless wall to hang them was quite the struggle, though.) Artfully placed various knickknacks that were lying around in the room onto the shelves. I even kept with a theme for the items!

You could almost pretend I did a room makeover…if you didn’t pan out and looked at the rest of the room. There are still two piles of boxes and papers overflowing on the floor. The other computer desk is surrounded by old bills. One bookshelf has two of the shelves stuffed with all sorts of random photos stacked on top of one another. All the DVDs are overflowing, because the new DVD shelf that is going in the basement hasn’t been built yet. (All the supplies were bought, though. But the basement and its remodeling is a whole other story.)

The entire house just needs a major update, but I can only do so much. After all, it costs money. Also, I have to think about how many more years I plan on staying in my childhood home. Gotta move out at some point. It’s probably going to take a few more years at my rate, but I’m not sure how much to invest in a house that’s not really mine, you know?

III.

On Saturday, I tackled the wooden motorcycle figure. First, I super-glued the riser. I think there may have been a knob beneath it in order to keep the rod in place, but it was clearly missing. Either way, the glue worked. The front of the bike can still move from side to side, and now there’s no danger of it becoming detached from the rest of the body.

Next, I moved onto the two cables. The right plastic cable conveniently had a small notch in the front fork where I could insert the cable inside, but the left cable did not have one. I was perplexed by this. Why was there one indent and not two? How was I supposed to attach the other cable?

My mom had gestured to me that each cable end belonged onto the fork, so seeing how there wasn’t a notch for me to connect the left cable to, I decided to create my own hole. I grabbed a screwdriver and kept twisting it, hoping I could carve into the wood something similar to what I saw on the other side of the motorcycle. I even took a hammer to it. Eventually, I announced that the homemade indent was good enough and began gluing the cables on.

I started with the right cable, fitting it exactly where it was supposed to be. I then applied glue into the newly created hollow. As I was holding the cable in place, hoping for the best, my eyes skimmed over the body of the motorcycle. On the left side, right above the foot peg, I noticed something peculiar.

“Amanda,” I said to myself, sighing. “You’re an idiot.”

There was a small hole on what I now know is the rear brake lever. That left cable was never meant to attach to the front; it belonged on the motorcycle’s body. Luckily, the glue hadn’t dried yet, so I quickly attached the cable into its proper place. As for the homemade indent, the gorilla glue I had used trying to attach the cable had filled the hole up.

I guess that’s what I get for becoming so focused on one task. I forget to take a step back when I encounter a problem, trying to plow ahead to force a solution when the solution was there the whole time. And for thinking my mom knew what she was talking about.

IV.

I wonder if that two-year-old knows more about motorcycle parts than I do now.