1. Mondays are difficult. It’s all I can do to just stare at the computer screen, wondering what I’m supposed to be doing. Then I’ll stare out the window and think about flying. Then I’ll stare back at the computer screen. It’s hell.
2. I think I just overdosed on Halls. My throat was feeling poorly last week so I have this bag of Halls sitting on my desk, the kind with the mentholated center. Well, I just ate about ten of them. I feel a little ill.
3. I’ll tell you what it is about Mondays – I just shut down. I’ve most likely been chatty and social and decadent for two solid days (four, if you just took two personal days like I did) and Monday finds me drawn and quiet.
4. At Star Wars on Friday night (and if anyone accuses me of spoiling anything for them with this next item, so help me god, I will just laugh at you until the end of time), when the newly minted Darth Vader and Senator Palpatine are standing at the bay of a ship, looking at a sphere being built, I turned to Stuart and said, louder than I’d hoped, “what’s that?” and he had to say, “that’s the Death Star, honey.”
5. But in my geeky defense, the minute Darth Vader started walking, all I could hear was “I do not need a tray to kill you, I can kill you with a single thought, I can, I could kill you with this tray if.. I .. so.. WISHED.” and “this one’s wet. this one’s wet. this one’s wet.” and “no I am not JEFF Vader, I am LORD Vader, I am, this is, I am Darth, this is MY DEATH STAR.”
6. Undoing any props given for the last item, Stuart likes to tell people the story of when I was trying in vain to reference a famous Star Wars quote and said instead, “there are no druids here”.
7. Star Wars, Schmar Wars – I nearly jumped out of my seat and hit the ceiling with glee and squeals when they showed the trailer for Narnia. If you do not understand why this is the most exciting thing in the world, you can go suck an egg.
8. The book I have been reading is all about death and near-death experiences and the Titanic and the brain shutting down and it’s marvelous but it has been making me think about death too much, to the point that last night when Stuart came into the living room where I was reading to say hello, I threw my arms around him and unexpectedly started crying.
9. I think my tears were prompted by a segment of the book where Daniel Marvin, returning from his European honeymoon with his young wife Mary, puts her on the lifeboat and says, “It’s alright, little girl. You go. I will stay.” No assurances that he’d see her in the morning, or in New York. Only, you go, I will stay. You live, I don’t. Such peace in such horror. The part of me that is more afraid of losing Stuart than losing myself could not wrap itself around the pain and love in that single line.
10. I actually don’t feel like writing anything else after that. It’s a strange note to end on, but there you have it. Such was my weekend.