Wednesday, 2 pm.
I have a headache. Despite a nice visit with Jack’s mum this morning, followed by an hour and-a-half of walkies, I feel crummy. And Cai is limping again after playing with some of the other doggies in the off-leash area, which makes me feel doubly crummy. And tomorrow I have to work for a living, and Friday I have to work from 6 am to 7 pm, so like how am I sposta keep up with this daily writing habit when my head hurts and I’m feeling guilty for letting Cai offleash and all I can think of writing about is fridge magnets? I feel triply crummy.
I start sifting through my partner’s photos. I find one that I would like to entitle, “The Unbearable Lightness of Cheesies”, but can’t organize my thoughts to write any commentary. That would make it another Wordless Wednesday entry. Lemme see, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Su– I’m not that organized.
The cheesie photo has made me think of movies. I stuff the little cloth WWF bag, the one that Seamus the Sea Turtle came with, into my coat pocket and head over to the neighbourhood video store. They don’t rent videos anymore, of course, but my partner has claimed that even DVDs will soon be anachronisms. Never mind; no one has dialed a phone in years, either, though we still say we do. I’ll survive the next technological change with grace, if not gusto.
4 10 pm.
I’ve come to rent a movie. Some film with a bit of brain behind it. Maybe “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”, or “The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”, neither of which I’ve seen. Something that doesn’t have its protagonist staring at a computer screen wondering how to expound on fridge magnets. As I edge past the sale bin, a decade-old film that I’ve already watched waves to me. Should I buy instead of renting? These previously-viewed DVDs are are a good price; there’s a buy-two-get-one-free deal on this table; and two of the other six dozen movies look like we’d watch them at least twice. Good enough for me.
5 30 pm.
My better half arrives home. She has a great idea of how to cook the trout I pulled from the fridge this morning, so I graciously allow her to make supper.
6 40 pm.
We settle into the sofa with big, steaming bowls of soba noodles and trout with orange sauce to watch the Japanese film, “After Life.” Like the few other Japanese films I’ve seen, it is very quiet and slow paced — but hey, this one’s about eternity.
8 40 pm.
Such sweet characters! Such gentle pathos! Such dirty dishes! Time to wash up, put Cai’s kibble on to soak, and go to bed. The movie was a good idea. By doing something completely different, away from my keyboard, my subconscious was able to move beyond cheesies and fridge magnets to Friday’s topic, which I’ll work on tomorrow when I’m fresh. Tomorrow, I will write about my coffee cup.