Schedules and Deadlines

The Mamea household1, for the sake of the adults’ sanity and convenience (and the prevention of corporal beatings), gets through each week with the help of a dinner schedule.  The schedule for Term 1 of 2007 is:

  • Monday – macaroni cheese
  • Tuesday – baked potatoes (courtesy of The Boy)
  • Wednesday – vegetarian surprise
  • Thursday – nachos (courtesy of The Girl)
  • Friday – pizza
  • Saturday – semi-planned surprise
  • Sunday – last-minute surprise

The children’s daily demands of What’s for dinner? are already answered, our (mostly) fixed shopping list ensures we get our core nutrients, and there are no more moments of standing in the kitchen wondering what the hell to stuff the kids’ mouths with.

Adults’ sanity – check.  Overall convenience – check.  (And no corporal beatings in three years, two months, two weeks, one day and counting2.)

Schedules, like lists, provide certainty.  Y’know: something to look forward to, or work through, or work towards.  Like goals.

Or deadlines.

And schedules and deadlines ensure Things Happen.

Besides being handy for things like moving house (don’t forget the pets or children, in that order) or going on holiday (ensure the selection of travelling music is equal between adults), my writing time is rarely without a deadline – I shall write ten pages of something/anything/everything until noon or I must write ten pages before I am worthy to watch an episode of Law & Order, Season 3.

Some days, the ten pages write themselves….  Well, the pain of typing text onto the blank screen is manageable.

Most days, I stave off the urge to do (long avoided) housework and/or try not to panic as noon approaches at double-speed and/or fight off any number of other procrastinating techniques, and I write and I write and I write.

As long as I’ve done a day’s writing, I don’t get restless, guilty or cranky with family members.  Well.  Okay.  It doesn’t stop me being restless from being pulled out of The Zone (I was in the middle of a great set piece!), or guilty that I didn’t spend more time with family, or cranky (because Who wrote this shit? or It’s so haaard and I hate it and why can’t producers just feel the craftsmanship?”).

Yeah.  The writing journey has its moments.

But on any given day, I know what I’m having for dinner.

1 – I hope my family forgives my possessory credit here.  But they’ll understand.

2 – Which, incidentally, is the length of time our entire blended family has been together.

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I Heart “The Shield”

I’d spent almost half of my life in thrall of Dick Wolf‘s Law & Order (at least, as much as the local broadcasters allowed) before Shawn Ryan‘s The Shield arrived and pissed and shit all over the television police procedural genre. Cop shows haven’t been the same since then.

Described as a James Ellroy-infused procedural, The Shield shows cops as flawed human beings, most of them driven by some core need to do The Right Thing, each with their own methods and morals, each looking out for their own interests, and each leaving a trail of emotional, psychological, emotional, sexual and physical destruction. I’m a dirty little voyeur for enjoying their mis/adventures for those reasons. (It’s those same reasons why The Goddess won’t watch it with me.)

The fourth season ended recently. Glenn Close‘s Captain Rawlings gets shafted but good by her superiors; I’ll miss her. An Internal Affairs investigation into the Strike Team appears about to change up a gear. And to see the Strike Team end a season with beers and esprit de corps aplenty was a discomfiting sight indeed.

Shows like The Shield and David Simon‘s The Wire have reinvigorated the genre, elevating it above mere ‘procedural’ to give us true ‘police drama’.

And about bloody time.

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Old Faithful

Law & Order has returned! And it’s got Dennis Farina whom I’ve admired since Crime Story.

Not much fanfare from the local broadcaster, of course. This’ll mark at least a decade’s worth of necessary sharp-eyed t.v. guide-spotting for a programme that is scheduled late, moved around at will, and sometimes abruptly stopped completely to make way for cricket or quality reality programming.

It clashes with Green Wing, but. Just as well the VCR’s still grinding along.

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