I was a scholarship student in college, which means I worked internships, work study, and a part time job as a waitress in addition to my class load. Oh, and worked as an editor of the school paper. At the end of semester I’d crawl to my mother’s house, absolutely demolished, and lie on her couch for a week, doing nothing but watching HBO hour after hour after hour, renewing myself on story. It didn’t even matter what stories–I just needed to soak in some nourishment.
It’s been a demanding few weeks around here, getting projects ready to show to my agent and editors, preparing for workshops, and then presenting those workshops (and seeing my boys–that was very good!). This week was the usual catch-up, and for the past two days, I’ve been up to my elbows in rearranging the MIP.
When I hit my goal, it was just turned the golden hour of noon, so I dove into the comfort of my bed, with dogs and my feet and my big soft cat draped over my lap to watch back to back to back episodes of Grey’s Anatomy (NO spoilers here. I just love this show–the imperfection of the characters and their relationships. It reminds me how much can be said without words. How important it is to remember that honest relationships are really not all that neat.)
I am now in the middle of Season Two, Disk 5, so I don’t think I have much more to go till I have to either tune in for reruns when this season is over, or wait for this season to be out on DVD (why don’t production companies realize they should release these things before the new season starts?). I’ll probably wait, because I am a story junkie. Television releases on DVD were absolutely invented for people like me. I wade into afternoon lakes of Tony Soprano or Grey’s Anatomy or Six Feet Under, swimming in that other world, a world someone else created, and when I emerge, glasses smeary with tears, empty cups of tea at my elbow, I’m patched up. Smoothed. Rewoven.
What’s your method of reweaving yourself?
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