I Have Become Nancy Botwin

For the second straight day, I wander the street of Marfa, noisily sucking the last of my Squeeze smoothie through a straw. I finally, fully understand why the Weeds main character is wedded to her coffee cup.

Like Nancy, my world has turned upside down. Everything is unknown. Leaving Manhattan for Marfa, I am adrift. My old life, the routines and people that made up my days and nights, are out of reach. I don’t know this new territory. The is little familar here that I can hold onto. Except my beverage cup.

For the few meditative minutes that it take me to slurp my smoothie, I am comforted by a known ritual. I can forget that I have left on the east coast all the vestiges of my life. In these brief moments of beverage bliss, my anxiety is eased.

But when happens when this short activity is over? Then what? How will I fill my time? What will I do?

And so, when my drink is down to its dregs, I do not toss my near-empty cup, but continue strolling, gripping it, teeth clenched on the straw, the annoying sound of sucking up air drowning out the possibility of thought.

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3 Responses to I Have Become Nancy Botwin

  1. hillary says:

    Hmmm. Maybe if you switched from smoothies to marijuana you would lose track of the time….

    • OMG Hill, how come I didn’t think of that? I think you have just explained so much about Marfa – the wacky store hours, how people endure the train whistle and the vast empty nothingness … Probably the perfect climate for growing, too.

  2. e.b. says:

    What a great little slice of life observation!

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