I’m one of those people that takes things as they are and uses them as they are intended. When something is handed to me a certain way, I tend to automatically assume that’s how it should stay.
Take this little doo-dad, for instance:
Do you recognize it? Probably. It’s the little pour/shake thing from a spice bottle. Specifically, it comes from a bottle of thyme.
How often, exactly, do you sprinkle thyme over something?
Personally, I’ve never done it. Probably never will. And yet every single flipping time I want to get my measuring spoon into that stupid bottle, I pry off that little shaker lid to get to it. Then, when I’m done, I slap the damn thing back on. Every time, it taunts me. I know it’s unnecessary. I know it’s just a useless piece of plastic that actually makes my life more difficult. I know everything would flow more smoothly if I just threw the ridiculous bit away.
And yet, every time I go to do so, I get a funny feeling in my chest. It’s this irrational pang, and I can’t seem to get past it.
I can’t just throw it away! It’s there! It must be there for a reason! I MAY NEED TO SHAKE THYME SOMEDAY.
Sounds reasonable, right?
About as reasonable as it sounds to sit here in front of my laptop, staring at a scene I know is pointless and/or repetitive and/or poorly written. It’s there! I can’t just throw it away!
Except wait. I totally can.
Last night, I took the shaker lid off my bottle of thyme. I measured out the quantity I needed. Then I took a deep, deep breath. And then another one. And then I didn’t put the shaker top back on. That’s right. I just screwed the cap back onto the naked bottle and put the now-shaker-less thing back in my spice cabinet.
I immediately felt lighter. I will never have to pry that dumb lid off again. Ever.
And that’s what happens when I delete a crappy scene, too. I feel lighter. Everything is better.
Sometimes, it’s a relief to let go of something you really don’t need.
…Especially when it involves taking your top off.