Yesterday, E.S. insisted that we have a day with no agenda. That meant no checking e-mails, turning cell phones off, and not doing any planning beyond the present moment.
It was horrible.
I mean, it was wonderful, of course, to be so carefree. (When I say “so carefree,” you must understand this in context; my carefree is another person’s locked up in unbreakable chains so tight as to induce temporary if not lasting paralysis.) But to be sitting in Ben and Jerry’s eating peanut butter cup ice cream (why, oh, why have they done away with chocolate peanut butter truffle?) trying with all my might to be relaxed and yet feeling the twin dread of Things I Ought to Be Doing and Bad Choices I Have Made hanging over me like modern-day Swords of Damocles–well, in the end it got a little tiring.
We ended up going to see Taking Lives, and I must say it was a welcome antidote. I mean, no matter how bad I feel, it’s unlikely I’m going to end up as a serial killer or his victim.
Though if I were a serial killer I’d probably be a lot more relaxed than I am.