May You Live in Interesting Times
This weekend felt particularly tedious.
Probably just my mood. I took the boys to the coffee shop with the kids' play area, the trampoline place, Grandma's house. We even braved the 30-degree weather to play out in the yard. The toddler bounced a hula hoop around the driveway while I gathered a wheelbarrow full of dead leaves.
Every time I glanced at my phone I saw more news about executive orders. I tried not to look, but the headlines followed me. They shouted from radios and snuck in through the mail. Politics is like an ex-boyfriend I wish I could cut from my life. It shows up, unwelcome, in the most intimate places.
I try not to blog about my dreams, but I had an interesting one last night.
In it, I had a meeting scheduled with Jeff Goldblum to discuss my memoir. As we talked, "La Mer" played in the background, but the lyrics were wrong. Instead of "La mer, qu'on voit danser," a voice sang "Fromage ... and camembert."
I tried to ignore the music and focus on my book.
"How do you make a dark topic light?" I asked.
Goldblum laughed and then leaned in, as though bestowing a great secret. "My dear. With cheese."