I love Sunday, the intersection of one week gone, and one in the making; a point full of movement and motion. Like my friend Bryanna, we've resigned our weekends to hard work but I often find myself chilled out on Sunday night, leaving the work aside and sitting in front of the TV for Grey's Anatomy.
I come home from yoga, floating on a cloud, feeling like my entire body is breathing through its pores. Yoga, for me, is so intense- stretching my body, pushing my limits. Shaking muscles. Going back to the breath. Gillian tells me yoga makes her cry, and she leaves feeling angry at the world. I can understand because the intense stretches push you, make you vulnerable. But I love it, my whole body works, in a way that I can't make it any other way.
Sunday stands as a vantage point, one week gone, and a new one ahead. This week, for instance, is insane. Math, Art History, Italian, all coming together in an unpredictable way. I've got two assignments, midterms in the distance, more grant applications blah blah blah. But I can see the week ahead, I can plan, relax, feel settled knowing I will be back at Sunday next week. Mwahaha, the feeling of control... it really is empowering.
And so from my beacon, I rest settled...
and watch Grey's Anatomy.
What a show. It's fun. It's moving. It's tense. It's poetic. And it is wonderfully written. A show like this renews my faith in scripted television and perhaps going into script-writing. I am so wrapped up in the lives of these interns. Every week I see the drama of each of the characters, I laugh, I tense. Meredith expresses herself with such succinct poetry. There's a charm that overpowers the show. It's full of reality, ups and downs, wonderfully realistic (and almost too well packaged) but still wonderful. Ultimately, I'm drawn in. I latch onto lines, storylines, dramatic buildup. Really the only show worth watching on TV. It's got it all: poetry, drama, comedy, hotness, interweaved stories. What an end to the week (and Nadira phonecalls :P).