The Secret Life of Daydreams

Maude sat at work with the weight of the world on her shoulders. In addition to the pressure of all things, an elephant took up residence on her chest. He often kicked back leisurely sipping Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill from a swirly straw.

"What the shit?" thought Maude as she struggled to breathe effectively between e-mails while the elephant constricted her sternum. “If I have to put up with him, he could at least drink scotch from a tumbler for God’s sake.”

After a career of early mornings, late nights, weekends, holidays and every other day in between, Maude was left to wonder how the world turned without single people.

While it's true that married or otherwise coupled people worked hard as well, she never saw them - especially the parental kind - sucking up all the air in the room just to get a decent breath. As always, she was left there alone at day’s end desperately wishing she kept a paper lunch bag in the event of hyperventilation.

Her sighs could be heard from miles around, not out of frustration, actually, but because of that damn elephant. As her constant companion, it only made sense that he took a name.

Therefore, she decided, he would be known as Lionel.

While all the breeders left to attend to baby and dog poop or day cares or soccer games-clashing-with-ballet-classes, Maude and Lionel stayed at her desk to finish one last thing when it inevitably turned into two more hours.

And then another two.

Followed by another one.

Without an external pulse hooked to her own, Maude was unleashed and otherwise uncommitted, so she spent time where she was needed: at the office. Though the world would turn without her, her world wouldn’t turn without work.

Many worried about Maude and thought she needed balance or a hobby. Some even suggested a therapist. ("Therapists! They're-a-pitts!" said Maude.) She brushed them off and went about her life with Lionel, high strung and hard wired.

Other than Lionel’s repulsive taste in booze, he had peculiar taste in music. Where Maude would typically prefer something up tempo and snappy, Lionel leaned toward the wrist-cutter variety and won out more often than not based on his size.

Eventually Maude adopted Lionel and carried him with her everywhere. They were frequently abandonded to kids and projectile stomach flu, spring breaks, doctor’s appointments or life.

Finally, after just-one-more-hour, Maude’s eyes glazed over and her blood sugar dropped to dangerous levels. She packed up her day and chunked Lionel’s empty bottles into the recycling bin. He was a bitch and never would share, not that she wanted some nasty-ass wine cooler, but the thought would've been nice. She then threw him over her shoulder to lumber home.

As she settled into the car, she gazed at the sprawling lake under a long-risen moon and wondered what life would be like without Lionel. The truth was she grew fond of him and things weren't right without him – always a wee bit off kilter. And she wanted to enjoy his company before life turned into a black hole of parenting. So she was stuck with him for better or worse.

She summoned enough oxygen to change gears and drove away from the office with Lionel, her oppressive pachydermal co-captain. While pondering their dynamic, she heeded her mother’s best advice:

It was better to spend $100 on a dress than a psychiatrist.

That is why she went shopping instead of home.

Swirly straws were in order.

As were a few cases of Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill.