Monday Morning Commute: An Accident of Birth

Today is January 2nd, the nightcap on what is typically thought of as the holiday season. The wrapping paper’s been discarded, the ornaments have been put back in the box, and Uncle Bosco’s been evicted from his spot on the couch. This our last chance to sample the holiday pastries before their thrown out, to empty the champagne bottles into our guts when no one’s looking, and to lounge around in sweatpants without worrying about judgment.

This is a glorious day.

I’m doing my best to revel in this final moment of jubilation, as I know that when tomorrow hits I’m going to be a miserable bastard. I don’t hate my job, but it’s incredibly time consuming and I often find myself dreaming of finding a job that’s less demanding, even if that’s synonymous with less lucrative. Which is kind of insane, because I don’t exactly make mad cheddy-donkies right now.

I know I’m not alone.

And thus, I present the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is OL’s weekly 9-5ers Anthem, the spot where we share our strategies for surviving the workweek. After you check out the various bits of entertainment I’ll be using to salvage my sanity, hit up the comments section and show off your wares.

Let’s do this.


Watchin’/NHL Winter Classic

Hockey is the greatest sport on Earth.

No other sport so seamlessly integrates grace and agility with aggression and physicality. As such, I find it quite easy to watch hockey games between teams to which I have no regional, emotional, or historical connection. Why is that? Well, because the sport itself is just so damn perfect.

Needless to say, I will be watching today’s NHL Winter Classic. As a devotee to the Boston Bruins, I don’t really care who wins. But having watched HBO’s 24/7, I’m on board for watching the Rangers and the Flyers duke it out in what is quickly becoming a celebrated hockey tradition.


Enjoyin’/The Obsolete Man (The Twilight Zone)

Yesterday saw SyFy hosting an all-day marathon of The Twilight Zone, a series I believe to be one of television’s all-time greatest. As such, I spent much of my New Year’s Day soaking up the televisional wonder provided by Rod Serling’s masterpieces. The episodes are fantastic and macabre and rife with the seemingly impossible, and perhaps because of this they are able to strum heartstrings that’re otherwise silent.

One of the episodes I watched yesterday was The Obsolete Man, which sees a librarian being persecuted by a State which has outlawed books and the knowledge they confer. Serling might’ve lifted much of this episode from Fahrenheit 451, but the performances and direction are extremely well-done. In twenty-five minutes, this episode makes a case for the necessity of the individual to remain resolute in the face of pressure from the powers that be.

And if that’s not something you believe in, I’m not sure we’re going to have a future together.


Fillin’/The Creative Well

It’s funny.

When I’m bogged down with so much work that I’m asphyxiating, hopelessly undoing my tie and panting until I sob, I have plenty of ideas. In these moments, I’m desperately trying to catch up to my ideas, scripting as much as I can until I pass out and then picking up where I left off the next day. I get incredibly frustrated in these times, bellowing to myself that, “If I didn’t have anything else to do, I’d write exponentially more than I do now!”

And yet, today’s the last day of my vacation and I’ve barely written at all. Oh sure, I’ve sat in front of the word processor a few times. But what’ve I managed to produce? Well, two things: not much and utter dogshit.

So I’m hoping that what my twisted psyche needs is the stress of work-life and the time-crunch it entails. Maybe If I’m not completely coddled, comfortable, and complacent, I’ll be able to actually write something. In the meantime, I’m just trying to read, watch, listen to, and experience as much as I can.

The name of the game is filling up the creative well.



Back to work tomorrow, and I’m not happy about it. But, as you’ve seen, I’m going to do my damn best to survive.

How’re you going to survive this week?