It was the question mark that did it

A respite. Calm descending. Cool, quiet nothingness, an exhaustion. Temporary. I knew it was temporary, but then everything is temporary.

This is supposed to be an amusing story, although perhaps only those who know me will get it. I told it to Allison on Friday night and she howled with laughter. I suppose those who know what it’s like to cry for four days straight and how ridiculous it eventually becomes and yet how you cannot stop despite the absurdity of your own behavior will also see the humor in this.

I was sitting at my desk, wiped out, cried out. All feeling washed away, the tide pulled back, for the moment.

An email came in. It was an Evite from my friend Chris. I opened it. He was inviting me to a birthday party he is throwing for his wife. I was excited. It hadn’t been a done deal that this party was going to happen, and my group of friends (and myself) put the pressure on Janine (the birthday girl in question) to come on, go for it, have a party, we’ll all be there, do it!! So I was happy to see that the plans had commenced.

There were the names of all my friends on the invite. All of them are couples, so they were all supposed to respond as one, which they were doing. Leaving messages, “We’ll be there!” “We saved the date – can’t wait!” Etc. I was fine, nothing was happening, no emotional triggers, getting ready to RSVP with “hell yes, I’ll be there” – when I saw my name on the invite.

It said: “Sheila O (and guest?)”

It was the question mark that did it. I was normal, and then suddenly I was like this:

The uncertainty implicit in the question mark had deep resonance, because with me, you never know. Some people ALWAYS “have guests”. It may be a different “guest” with every event, but you wouldn’t put a question mark there, because a guest is a done deal with certain people. But with me?

We need that question mark. Because you never know.

Everyone knows that there’s always a big question mark next to that specific part of Sheila’s life, and there it was, in an innocent Evite.

The tide rolled back in with a flood (Fundy Bay) and I was down for the count for the next hour, pacing around my apartment, wringing my hands like a character in a book (yes, people do actually wring their hands! New discovery!), saying over and over, “And guest?? AND GUEST????” repeating it to myself like a crazy person, over and over, “The question mark!!! The question mark!!! And guest?? And guest????” (My repeating of “And guest??” started to feel very much like Paul Dooley’s freakout in Breaking Away where he can’t stop saying the words, “REfund?? REFUND? Refund???”)

“AND GUEST? And guest??? And GUEST??”

Later, talking to Allison, we staggered down 7th Avenue South, howling with laughter about it, she totally got it.

One minute, you’re calm.

Next minute you see a question mark.

And in the next minute you’re like this.

Punctuation’s a killer.

You gotta be careful with that shit.