I’m trying desperately to find form, to create some sort of system in which to fit myself into, some sort of structure, but every night I find myself here, in this same position, noticing that the day is yet over again and I am repeating the words
In New York City’s war on crime the most serious offenders are prosecuted by the detectives of the major case squad.
These are their stories.
I had never noticed Law and Order before, never even knew who Goren was, but here I am again, watching him overact in that insufferable, wondrous, addictive way and now I can say the words in the beginning perfectly rather than in my own gobbledygook which The Love just admitted he doesn’t find as interesting as when I spoke it in gobbledygook. If I try now I can’t even do the gobbledygook. Because every night after we’ve finally got Kiki to sleep all I want to do is lie back on the couch and eat lamb stew and surrender what is left of my brain to some fine, grisly murder. Last night it was a pharmacist who diluted cancer drugs leading to a lovely elderly man being forced to euthanase his dying wife – uplifting stuff. The night before, the image of the lady in the trunk of the car was so gruesome it gave me nightmares. I don’t know why I’m finding depressing murder stories so comforting at night at present. I don’t even know how we ended up watching television.
It’s this struggle with definition, these fluffy days, all is flabby, muffintops, marshmallow. My brain is a doona. My mind a floatie. The days whizz by – where am I again – in a seaside town with a pram, my hair chopped off and hips that belong to some lady. A page 3 chest. Thinking about baking and the benefits of rice cereal and feeling guilty for chocolate and - What? The rain is falling. There are magpies at night and I just can’t figure out why they are singing their warbling song in the cool, black, seaside night. Is it a mating thing? Are they aware what that can lead to?
It’s time for bed. Really. Go to bed. Yesterday after having a shard more sleep there was a moment of clarity that broke and then passed before I could catch it. But it lasted just long enough to leave a memory and I really should remember that memory and try for a wider one. Go to bed.