If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out
December 10th, 2006
I used to get Sunday Night Syndrome almost every weekend. You know, that sinking, miserable feeling that Monday is coming, and you can’t stop it, even if you squint your eyes as hard as you can to see if just once, just this BLOODY ONCE, you can transcend time and space to make it Sunday for one more day? I used to get it so bad that I couldn’t enjoy Sunday at all. Weekends consisted of Friday night and Saturday, and by Sunday morning, a full-fledged depression had sunk in, and just thinking about the misery that would befall me on Monday mornings would be enough to send my stomach into lurching misery. I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, not only from the shift in schedule by sleeping a bit later, but from paralyzing anxiety because I had to go back to work. Truthfully, Mondays were never as bad as I made them out to be in my anxious mind, but it didn’t matter, because I’d already made myself so incredibly sick over the possibilities. In retrospect, I could have stood for some serious medication, therapy and maybe a new job, my God.
Anyway, I don’t get that anymore, and in fact, in recent years, I’ve been able to thoroughly enjoy the entire weekend, right down to the bittersweet end. Most of this has to do with the fact that I genuinely love what I do every day, and while I dread the sound of the alarm every morning, I don’t dread what follows. God, I had no idea what a difference enjoying what I do could make on my life, even impacting how I enjoy my time off. And while this is all well and good, I cannot deny that when I have a weekend like this one, I am still a little sad to see it go. It was, in a word, delicious, and I could use seven more days exactly as these, laid out like a big plushy mattress for me to roll around in.
I finally succumbed to the neverending craving and made cupcakes this weekend, but I am shamed to admit, I chickened out. Hello, Duncan Hines, nice to meet you! Oh, your cousin Betty Crocker makes whipped frosting? I’ll call her, thanks! And that’s exactly what I did, because at the end of the day, actually having cupcakes that were edible were the single most important thing that was to happen this weekend. I needed those cupcakes in a way I can’t properly explain – God, I was dreaming about them, lying awake at night plotting to fill my day with cupcakes. At least three nights this past week, I went to the gym with a wallet full of fresh dollar bills with the intent of hitting the grocery store to buy some fluffy cupcakes with plasticky frosting, negating the calories I’d just burned off, of course. Incidentally, I have been pro-cupcake even before they came back into vogue. The fact is, there’s nothing better than a perfectly-portioned piece of cake in a handy little wrapper just for you. You are not expected to share the cake, there is no need to jockey for a bigger slice, and the frosting is always perfect. Fact is, cupcakes are pretty generous in size, and though it pains me to admit it, a single cupcake really is quite satisfying (although that doesn’t mean that I don’t crave uh, nine or 10 at a time. I do. But I don’t do it. Sigh.).
Anyway, the cupcakes were really just the beginning of one of the laziest, most decadent weekends ever, and man, it was awesome. Fact is, I’m not a particularly active person, hence, the gym-going, because if I didn’t do that, I am pretty sure my muscles would atrophy and I might die. I find nothing greater than lounging around reading, watching movies, baking cupcakes and napping, and that’s exactly what we did all glorious weekend long. Both mornings, I stayed in my pajamas well past 1 p.m., preferring instead to loll about downstairs with the dog, watching old movies while she snored in the crook of my neck. Eventually, I would rise and dress for an absurdly leisurely lunch with Adonymous, then resume my position on the couch, dog in arms, cat at feet, book in hand or movie on the television. Sometimes the rhythm of her breath would be enough to lull me back to sleep for a few minutes, and God, did I mention how wonderful it was? I think I left the house for a grand total of two hours the entire weekend, and I really don’t think I was awake for 12 hours out of either day. The fact that I know weekends like these will be fewer and, uh, farther between (non-existent, I know, I know) when we have kids, makes them that much sweeter.
I am just so sad to see it end.
Anyway. One of the movies I watched on Saturday was an old favorite, Harold and Maude. Say what you will about the cheese factor of this little number, but I never tire of sitting down and getting completely lost in Maude’s zest for life, and in Harold’s hilariously cold indifference (until of course, he meets Maude). If by chance you’ve never seen it nor heard of it, the film is about a young rich kid of about 20 who is, on some level, obsessed with death and suicide, regularly attending strangers’ funerals for fun and enjoyment. At a funeral, he meets Maude, a 79-year-old senior citizen (and Holocaust survivor) who teaches him how to live and, uh, love, in every sense, including the one you might not imagine between a 20-year-old and a near-octogenarian. And if it sounds overly earnest, dude, it IS, it really is, but it’s a delightful ride all the same, and boasts a killer soundtrack from Cat Stevens. It’s in the regular rotation on TMC, should you be looking for something to TiVo this week, and in fact, I’m urging anyone who hasn’t seen it to run out and do so as soon as possible. As lame and twee as it sounds, this is one of those films that changes how I see the world, even if only for a little while.
I hope your weekend was as delightful. Happy, uh, Monday. Boo.
*Cat Stevens, the theme from Harold and Maude. Happy sigh.
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
18 Comments Add your own
1. Yez | December 10th, 2006 at 10:43 pm
It’s definitely time for me to haul Harold & Maude out of VHS storage :> There are just no words for Ruth Gordon.
Cupcakes are better than no cake at all, but I’d much rather have a slice (or three) of cake on a plate. Cupcake crumbs need to FLY! and they do, and they land someplace where I’ll sit on them and grind them into my contrasting-color butt, or where they’ll spread impossibly huge grease stains on a freshly printed Important Document. Still, yes! Pass me the cupcakes!
2. no name slob | December 10th, 2006 at 11:55 pm
Harold and Maude ROCKS. My favorite scene is when Harold’s mother is filling out his dating service questionnaire. Genius. A theater in my old city shows a midnight movie every Saturday, and H&M was one of the most fun screenings I ever attended.
Oh, and that Sunday feeling? I know it well. And it’s what Douglas Adams referred to as “the long dark teatime of the soul.”
“In the end, it was the Sunday afternoons he couldn’t cope with, and that terrible listlessness that starts to set in about 2:55, when you know you’ve taken all the baths that you can usefully take that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the newspaper you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o’clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul.”
Love him.
3. Lawyerish | December 11th, 2006 at 7:32 am
Your weekend sounds perfect. Mine wasn’t far off from that, except I did manage to escape the clutches of the couch long enough to put up the Christmas tree.
I just saw Harold & Maude for the first time about a year ago, and it was pretty fantastic. The first scene is genius. Genius!
4. Orange Peacock | December 11th, 2006 at 7:43 am
I had an equally languid weekend, even without the Harold and Maude. Excellent movie choice, though.
5. Nancy | December 11th, 2006 at 7:44 am
I LOVE that movie! I laugh like it’s the first time I’ve seen it every single time. I love cupcakes, too! It sounds like you had a wonderful weekend!
6. Allison | December 11th, 2006 at 7:49 am
Oh, the Sunday feeling. I know it well. I still get it even though I’m pretty happy with my job.
Yeah, enjoy those weekend days of sitting on the couch doing nothing while you can. You CAN still stay in your pajamas all day long if you want once you have a kid though.
Yum, cupcakes.
7. guinness girl | December 11th, 2006 at 9:51 am
I want to cry after reading your brilliant idea of transcending time to experience two Sundays. Mondays bite my ass.
Also, I am a huuuuge (um, also literally) fan of the mini-cupcake. They’re a bit more labor-intensive, but it is well worth it. One tiny little bite-sized cupcake, followed by 20 more…heaven.
8. lizgwiz | December 11th, 2006 at 10:09 am
I LOVE weekends like that. And I find that if I’m able to chill out like that for 2-3 weekends in a row, then the next weekend I’m a ball of fire, caulking the tub, baking, shopping. Maybe subconsciously I need to prove to myself I’m not a total sloth.
9. Tartine | December 11th, 2006 at 10:10 am
I have been craving cupcakes, too! And fervently resisting the desire to bake some. Damn you – I might have to cave in now after reading your Ode To The Cupcake.
10. Heather B. | December 11th, 2006 at 11:19 am
Now I’m craving cupcakes, so I might make some in addition to these scrumptious seven layer bars that I’m making this evening. I love cupcakes. There’s this place here called Cake Love (the guy was on Oprah, so that obviously means something) and I love it in ways that I cannot describe except to say that I would gladly give up my first born for a dozen key lime and chocolate cupcakes.
11. Suebob | December 11th, 2006 at 12:14 pm
Mr Stapler and I have this weekend issue. On Friday nights, he is “tired from the week” so he needs go to sleep as soon as he gets home and not arise until a ridiculous hour – usually about when I am ready to go to sleep.
But on Sunday nights he is fresh as a daisy and ready to party, when I am hunkering down in my jammies on the couch, deep in the long dark teatime.
I didn’t read your headline at first, but when I saw the *asterisk, I immediately said “If you want to sing out, sing out!” Love me some Harold and Maude. Bud Cort has played some interesting roles in the years since .
12. monday | December 11th, 2006 at 2:05 pm
I watched “The Kid Stays in the Picture” this weekend. I knew little about Robert Evans, but after seeing the movie and learning that he, thru Paramount, had a hand in the creation and success of HandM, have some respect for the egomaniac.
13. Yez | December 11th, 2006 at 2:11 pm
Heather B – “key lime and chocolate cupcakes.” Okay, SWOON.
14. Meepers | December 11th, 2006 at 2:14 pm
I’ve only seen H & M once – my husband (the big girl) cries like a baby every time. I love his car! Your weekend sounds divine! By the way…are you hinting that those weekends will be fewer/nonexistent Soon? (No pressure, just curious) Good luck either way!
15. ali | December 11th, 2006 at 6:46 pm
Please make a note to never ever again read this post once Jimmy busts onto the scene. It will only make you weep. {sob}
16. Carolyn J. | December 11th, 2006 at 9:26 pm
I saw H&M for the first time a couple of weeks ago. What a terrific movie! I decided that Harold was the original Goth boy.
17. LCA | December 12th, 2006 at 5:09 pm
You have become one of my very favorite bloggers. And my newest delight is the fact that I identify so much with the Sunday depression thing. I quit my job two weeks ago because it was overwhelming and my boss was downright abusive, and it wasn’t doing anything to help my depression. My last day is Thursday, and I’m a little worried about finding a new job, but mostly, I feel so relieved. My boyfriend said he can se a difference in me, and I’m a lot happier. Your success lets me know I definitely did the right thing.
Also, you mentioned in a recent post that you’re about to turn 31. You are the 5th person I know who is that age, and all 5 of you absolutely kick ass. Must have been a good year.
18. Beth | December 13th, 2006 at 5:25 pm
I saw that movie one night when my (much older) cousin babysat me and my brother. I think I was 11 and he was 8, and I vaguely remember being far too young for that movie. Now, of course, I never watch movies that don’t involve puppets or teletubbies.
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