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The Podcass 002: Waiting Room

The rhythm of the past week was thrown out of whack by an unexpected development. My baby niece hasn’t been feeling well and showed symptoms that prompted a trip to the emergency room. And that meant an hours-long wait in the ER.

No worries. My niece is fine. My sister, mother and I are a bit sleep-deprived, but we’re fine. But the waiting. And the waiting room…

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Overzealous Recycling 012: We’re all fine here now, thank you

This past week’s routine was thrown out of whack by a hours-long wait in the emergency room. No worries. A bit of concern with my niece that would’ve been taken care of at the pediatrician or even urgent care had it happened during the day.

But everything’s perfectly all right now. She’s fine. We’re fine. We’re all fine here now, thank you. How are you?

— If you missed the last Overzealous Recycling, you can read it here 

This pass should say “10:10 PM.”

At some point during the third hour (of a total four; my sister was there for six hours), while my phone’s battery was sinking toward 10% charged, I began thinking about an obscure, nearly 25-year-old Saturday Night Live skit called “WR.”

Do you remember that one? George Clooney was hosting the show during his ER fame, so a parody of the medical drama was a natural (maybe lazy) idea. This was Season 20 — Feb. 25, 1995 — if you’re a diehard SNL fan and completist.

Unfortunately — and normally, this might be the thing to vex me the most in a particular week — there doesn’t appear to be an embed of the skit. But it is available on NBC’s Saturday Night Live website (though not the NBC app, as the site claims):

WR: Waiting Room

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Overzealous Recycling 006: Is this as far as we got?

peanuts_reading

During the past couple of years, I’ve looked to the past to try and make the present happier. Getting back in touch with the things that once brought me joy could bring joy once again. Maybe that’s a form of regression. Maybe it’s a futile attempt to reminisce about simpler, more care-free times.

If you missed the last Overzealous Recycling, you can read it here

This has been on my mind for quite a while, but Meghan Daum’s recent essay on Medium got me thinking about it more. At 47, two years after her marriage ended, Daum is living much like she did as a 27-year-old. Is that always who she was, deep down, even when she tried to follow the path — career, marriage, etc. — to which we all aspire?

Maybe Rust Cohle was right. Time is a flat circle.

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