lives

"It's all very well to have a mundane life when you're just living it yourself ... but when someone else is observing you doing it, you realize: What a waste." - David Plotz

Mr. Plotz and his wife, Atlantic Monthly writer Hanna Rosin, spent an entire day tethered to each other by a 15-foot length of string. The point was to be "in each others' consciousness." They closed the door when they were using the bathroom, but that was the extent of their separation. They shared oatmeal for breakfast. They took each other to work. The wife judged her husband's soda rage and soccer watching habits; he re-discovered that she was "smart and appealing."

The utter mundanity of their own lives was one observation Plotz and Rosin made; another was that the exercise took away the necessity (even the ability) to tell stories about their day. This I found interesting. I love telling stories. I thrive on narrating the details of the hours of my day. That's why I have this blog; because at the end of the day, hardly anyone I live with or near wants to hear about a day that was as boring or as infuriating or as chaotic as theirs was, especially not from someone who will shrilly insist that it was ten times more so. If I carried S. around in my pocket, or he me in his (typing that made me laugh), what would we talk about later?

I just spent about 8 nonstop minutes telling S. the story of my day. I almost cried with frustration when describing one particular part of it. What's more cathartic, I wonder - this release, or having someone with me at all times to personally witness the sheer ridiculousness that my life, on occasion, is? Would he judge me on my beverage habits or remark that I am "smart and appealing"? Would his time management skills appall me or would I swoon at his authority? Both? All? None?

Irrelevant, I guess. But an interesting thought.