We are at seventeen pages of workshop and we are stopping for the day, because hello, brain, where have you gone?
BRAIN: La la la, I can’t hear you. Besides, I’m zonked. I gave you nine pages of workshop. Nine. That’s above and beyond. Also, I reorganised it all for you. I deserve a break.
ME: But but but — I thought we had a thing. We were in synch! We were flying!
BRAIN: Yeah, well, that was then. This is now. And my now consists of a demand for a piece of cake and some Eternal Sonata on the Xbox, kid.
ME: We only have one more work day after today!
BRAIN: Your point?
ME: What if something goes wrong tomorrow?
BRAIN: Kid, you have enough material to carry you for two hours. Factor in a break and some discussion, and you’re fine. Besides, I’m working on a meditation, but it’s still brewing. Two of ’em, actually, one for the symbol of the flame, and one for the cauldron.
ME: That’s so sweet of you.
BRAIN: I know. But it’s only gonna happen if you give me cake and Eternal Sonata.
ME: I don’t know…
BRAIN: Look. It’s feed me sugar and a really pretty video game, or wring the last drops of use out of me today and have me be nothing but a brick tomorrow. Fat lot of good that would do you.
ME: Do you really think so?
BRAIN: I know so.
ME: Could we do something else? Something that feels less like skiving? Like, oh, practise the cello?
BRAIN: Again? We did that twice yesterday, plus had a lesson. We’ve practised once already today. No, no cello for you.
ME: Sorting through tax stuff, maybe?
BRAIN: No, we did that on Monday. Not a lot of it, true, but even a bit is more than enough for a week like this.
ME: You won’t be moved?
ME: Fine. Have it your way. I give up. HRH is bringing beer home tonight because we’re both home to watch Bones, so maybe we’ll have that last glass of red wine I’ve been saving while we play.