This was not the greatest of weekends, which is fine. When you have to spend your weekend working, you go into it expecting that it is not going to be the kind of end-cap to your week that you will remember fondly and for all time, that you will toast to at your wedding and tell nostalgic stories about to your grandchildren who will be irritated because you are so lame. I didn’t plan on being the happiest girl in the world, but I planned on getting my stuff done and maybe having a few minutes with E and the dogs on the couch.
Instead, I got a nightmare of a freelance job that had me breaking down into frustrated tears half a dozen times, that should have taken about ten hours total but ended up taking 14 hours to get all the way through the first chapter and only halfway through the second. I raged, I growled, I wrote strongly worded letters to my editor. I tried not to panic because I wasn’t getting anything at all done on any of my other work, and I wanted very badly to crawl under my bed and not come out until someone told me I had won the lottery and here is a magic golden pony that will kick to death anyone who is mean to me.
Late Sunday, I gave up. I gave up, and went to E’s parent’s house for
pizza, wine, and love. There is nothing in the world like pizza, wine, being told you are family, and the love that comes along with
it. Back to E’s house, and I am a small ball of worry on the couch,
trying to work on other projects but not getting much done, grinding my
teeth and tapping my feet. E settled in next to me, grabbed the remote,
and found The Fifth Element in HD. “There,” he said,”I’ve made a
The Fifth Element is the movie that I cannot help but watch every time
I catch it on television. The movie makes me happy no matter how
many times I watch. The movie that is like a pair of slippers and a
chenille robe and a big mug of hot chocolate, that is more marshmallows
than hot chocolate, a hot bath, a pile of cookies, the smell of burning
wood, and sleeping in late. It’s my comfort movie, my go-to when I’m
stressed and don’t want to think and even reading is too hard because
it involves effort and concentration.
E turned it on for me and I tried to work for a little while longer,
but he was warm and the quilt was heavy and my movie, which I hadn’t
seen for a million years, was on. I had forgotten how ridiculous
and wonderful it is, in all its outrageous silliness. My weekend was
bad, but this was the very opposite of that. For a couple of hours I
did not think about deadlines or projects, or being fired from all my
jobs because of extreme failure, and lack of not failing. I needed the comforting. I felt comforted. Today is an entirely new day, entirely.
Do you have a comfort movie? What’s your go-to when everything seems very difficult? What makes you happy?