Catharsis, coffee, cinema
This weekend I got the idea that I should go and stand in every room of my house with a piece of paper and a pen and in each room write down everything that I really needed to do or had been meaning to do in that space (or anywhere, really). I decided to do this because in the daily schlep and grind of life, I feel like a full half of my sentences start with the words “Blarrrrgh, I need to…”, and there just IS NOT enough space between my ears to hold the myriad of things that follow that phrase. I thought maybe if I went room to room it would act as a trigger to remind me of different things that I think about while I’m going about my normal activities, and you know what – it WORKED. In fact, the first item in the first room read “OH SHIT, THE TAXES!!!” (Just kidding.) (No seriously Dad, I’m kidding.) Like BUTTAH it worked, and now my brain feels free and clear and vacant as the Bates Motel. My hope is that now that I am so unfettered from the ever present To-Dos I will have the ability to remember the smaller things in life like removing my coffee mug from the top of the car before I pull away from the curb. Or hair brushing.
Of course, I have no idea if I will actually DO the things on this giant behemoth of a list. However, I find this inconsequential to the cathartic process.
Insert Joke About Being Really Tired On The Way Home From FL And Then Seeing This Up Ahead HERE
Just hook me up to the hose, kthnx.
Rated R for Regret
I turned off not one, but TWO movies recently and never finished them. This is unprecedented. I am notorious for sitting all the way through AND ALSO watching the special features for movies like Maid In Manhattan or [name of any other Jennifer Lopez movie], but I just couldn’t muster up enough energy to even care about The Notorious Bettie Page or Copying Beethoven – both of which I checked out on a whim from the library. This is the downside of free movies. Sometimes you get to see The Godfather for the first time or stumble upon the greatness that is The Motorcycle Diaries, and sometimes you have to suffer through Ed Harris in a godawful wig being an asshole to some oddly-accented supermodel who also happens to be Vienna’s greatest composition student. (Totally believable, I think!) Also, if I never have to see Ed Harris’ hairy saggy white bare bottom again in my life it will be too soon. Too too soon, my friends.
And with that image seared in your brain, I leave you to enjoy your Monday.