actual monday post
Monday, Mar. 07, 2005,
Monk is Poirot.
Think about it. Poirot's obsessive neatness has been well documented. He's highly observant despite overwhelming self-absorbtion. He's widely considered to be a genius.
He's a societal outsider. (Monk by his illness, and Poirot by his foreignness, are looked on as being not quite full members of society).
He has always exhibited a loathing of leaving his home to ply his trade, and doesn't really need to; if provided with the facts he can do it all in his head.
He has a supporting character equivalent to Japp in Captain Stottlemeyer. Sharonna or Natalie performs the same function as Hastings--that of foil/assistant/enabler.
Sure; they gave him a murdered wife, and in our enlighteded times, his behavior pattern is is recognized as symptomatic of an illness, but let's face it. Just as Poirot owes much to Holmes, Monk owes much to Poirot.
I had a Jerry Seinfeld moment yesterday. This thought hit me when I walked into the ladies room:
Why is it that handicapped people get the spot closest to the door in a parking lot, but the spot farthest from the door in a public restroom?
So, back to the eternally hellish life that is my job. Except I've apparently given up completely, and no longer have any intention of even trying. I just don't care any more, and frankly would welcome being fired. I am totally at sea as to what I'm supposed to be doing, and I don't. give. a. rat's. ass.
Well, not really. The part about welcoming being fired, and being totally at sea? That's true.
The part about giving up completely, and no longer have any intention of even trying, and not caring any more, and not giving a rat's ass? Not so much truth there. Shuh! I wish.
My FIL will be coming to stay next weekend, and I will be babysitting him for almost two full weeks. I thought it over very carefully, and refused to do it, only to have my spouse tell them it was okay anyway.
Ran over me like I wasn't even there.
I told him "wha'evah", but I am NOT giving up my bedroom, NOT cooking for him, NOT waiting on him or cleaning up after him, and NOT changing my lifestyle one iota.
Hell, after stabbing me in the back like that, the spouse'll be lucky if I even TALK to his father.
But if I do anything at all, it isn't going to be for that lazy old man, and it isn't going to be for my treacherous and double-dealing husband.
It will be for P and E--so they can have a nice vacation away from the worthless old fart. They put up with him all the time, from the goodness of their heart, and they are the ones who deserve some care and attention.
I miss the swimming, but I didn't do too bad today; considering all the fattening food I consumed this weekend, I'm surprised I can move.
Reading: "Murder on the Links", by Agatha Christie
Listening: XM, Comedy 150
Beading: Still no current project, but at least my mind is turning back towards all things beady.