- “There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things, isn’t that kind of the point?”
Nothing in my life feels ordinary.
Do we all go through life pretending to be brave? Like nothing bothers us?
Just so no one pities us. So that we can be alone and not have to answer questions about our well-being?
To go into the woods and lick our wounds or die in peace like the animals we are?
Do we all do that or is it just me?
On what was going to be an awful 1st, a friend recommended that I watch The Office.
My daughter was gone for the 1st holiday since my divorce and I was spending Thanksgiving alone.
I was invited to eat with friends but as I stated above, it was a situation in which I preferred my own company. I went to the community workout at CFR and headed home, logged into Netflix and started the series. When my daughter got home that Saturday, I was into Season 3.
“Sometimes I’ll start a sentence, and I don’t even know where it’s going. I just hope I find it along the way.”
Last night, I finished the series. 195 days later. And so much has happened.
In a time of great inconsistencies, The Office was stability. It wasn't going anywhere.
My 1st Christmas as a single mom, my daughter gave me a Dundie and awarded me The Hottest In The Office award. We binged The Office together. She texted me this because a 17-year old will text you while sitting in the same room as you:
It was a perfect day.
I thought it would be awful. It turned out to be the happiest Christmas I've had in many years.
Cotton had an ad campaign years back and the slogan was, "The Fabric of Our Lives."
As I watched this series, I couldn't help but notice how true that was in regard to The Office and so many people. It is woven into the lives of so many of us.
"I get home from work and watch The Office."
"The Office is on in the background every night."
"Want to come over and watch The Office?"
Every single person who I connect with connects with this show on a different level.
It's like, family.
A not so secret society.
The Office has hung with me these last 195 days. It kept me company through my 1st bout with the flu when I had no one to buy me crackers and check on me.
It celebrated with me when I fell in love the 1st time and stayed with me when my heart was broken.
I hate to sleep alone. Hate it. So, it kept me company all of those late nights.
The last 6 weeks, almost every Friday and Saturday night, I've hung out with the paper pushers from Dunder Mifflin. I wasn't ready for the series to end.
I could list a hundred events and times that The Office has seen me thru over the last few months. It has been my friend when I didn't feel like I had one. Someone to laugh with when I needed it. Noise in the background so the silence doesn't suffocate me.
I rationed out the last season.
I felt like I couldn't deal with another thing being taken from my life. I didn't want it to be over.
But all things end.
Who would've thought that a show about a bunch of ordinary people selling paper in Scranton would hit me so hard in the feels?
Or that it would give so much back to me?
I asked a friend, "Well, what do I do now?"
He said, "You start over."
You start over.
If he only knew the double-meaning in what he said. Or maybe he does but in a different way that is relevant to him?
It seems like we all watch The Office because we need to. It fills something in our souls. It makes us feel connected or connects us to others who just "get it'.
The Nard Dog left us with a great thought:
“I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days, before you’ve actually left them.”
Maybe, that's now.
If it isn't, we just start over.
