One more episode

Three o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, Sarah texted that she was ‘in the neighborhood’ and wanted to drop off something she’d borrowed. That was five hours ago. The borrowed item — a pottery book of Margaret’s that I’d lent Sarah — is still sitting by the door, untouched, because approximately eleven minutes after she arrived we somehow ended up on the couch with Adolescence queued up and neither of us said a single word about leaving.

One more episode

I’d been meaning to watch it for months. Sarah had apparently also been meaning to watch it for months. We kept saying ‘okay, last one’ in the specific way that means absolutely nothing when the next episode starts automatically and you are already too horizontal to reach the remote. By the time Jake appeared in the kitchen doorway we were both fully defeated — me with the throw blanket, Sarah with her knees tucked up, the popcorn bowl in its final, tragic state. He looked at us. He took a photo. He said nothing and went back to whatever he was doing, which I respect enormously.

Jake documented the damage.

I’ve been in a stretch lately where everything has felt a little full — the archive coordination with Margaret’s contacts has been genuinely wonderful but also genuinely a lot, and I’ve been carrying it in the particular way where you don’t realize how tired you are until you finally stop moving. Apparently stopping moving looks like: five episodes, a bowl of popcorn, and Sarah Chen asleep for twenty minutes with her head tipped back and her mouth slightly open (I will not be sharing photographic evidence of that). We both agreed the show wrecked us. We also both agreed we’re watching the rest of it next weekend. Some commitments you make without thinking.