Sometimes a Manic Hobgoblin gets the better of me. I live in a sweet, old house in central Austin. I travel a few times each year. I have too many pets, and love each one more than the next.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Monk Marathon = Happy
A year ago today, Chad and I were working hard to whip this old house into shape. We had only two rooms painted and unpacked: the guest bedroom, which we lived / hid in the first six months here; and the living room / dining room, which we didn't spend much time in because we could see into the other rooms that weren't painted yet, full of unopened moving boxes. It was hot. We were, no doubt, covered in little speckles of paint and primer. I think we had hot water for showers and washing dishes at that point, but I can only really remember that the gas guy took several weeks to show up and actually turn on the gas for the gas hot water heater and gas stove after we moved into this house.
Last fourth of July, I distinctly recall begging Chad to take a break from painting and cool off with me. We positioned ourselves squarely under an air conditioning vent and sprawled out on the living room floor. I flipped on the TV for some brain candy, and found that the USA network was showing back-to-back episodes of Monk all day. Yay! I love this goofy mystery show about a detective who has obsessive compulsive disorder and a plethora of phobias. Chad and I watched an episode and half of Monk before we dragged ourselves back into whatever room we were working on at that time.
I set our digital recorder to record Monk anytime it came on TV. Whenever we took a break from working on the house for the rest of the summer, there was usually a recorded Monk to watch. I came to associate the theme song of Monk with happy times when I could set down the paintbrush or screwdriver for a while, temporarily ignoring the long list of chores. The Monk theme song would start. My eyes would glaze over slightly. My brain would bask in happy chemicals. My back would relax into the floor, for I was far too dirty to put my icky, paint-splattered self on the sofa. Watching episodes of Monk took me to my happy place.
This fourth of July holiday delivered another Monk marathon which our trusty digital recorder captured while we bustled around getting ready to have friends over for dinner -- a nice dinner in our completely painted, unpacked, cleaned and (for now) finished house. After a yummy dinner with good company, we headed out to watch fireworks. After the fireworks, it was time to come home to wash dishes and clean up the dinner debris. Before we started washing up, Chad asked if we could watch an episode of Monk. Heck, yeah! The Monk theme song started. My eyes glazed over slightly. My brain basked in happy chemicals. My back relaxed into the sofa, for I am no longer covered in last summer's constant layer of sweat, dust and paint. Happy times...