Dear Macbeth …

Long time reader Angela Sauer sent me this piece she wrote in college, a letter from Lady Macbeth to her very busy husband.  Funny stuff!  Count the references :).  I particularly liked the “stop by the butcher’s (if he’s not dead)” line.

LADY MACBETH’S LETTER TO MACBETH By Angela Sauer 10/01/05 My husband? Don’t forget we’re hosting that family dinner of mine tonight. I know you’ve had some problems with my weird sisters in the past, but hopefully they won’t cause too many problems in the future. Consider it not so deeply! Just sit down in the nearest vacant seat and try to act naturally. Be welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue. Try not to make any dirty jokes. Would it hurt you to be stoic a skotch? Don’t talk about your snake too much (although I do appreciate that you’re not afraid to be the same in act and valor as though art in desire. To bed, to bed! *wink, wink*). I’m sure we’ll be fine. After all, it’s only dinner… what’s the worst that could happen? And do NOT start in about me being drunk the last time we had company. I only participated in 3 rounds of wine and wassail. I know you think I was being a little flirty with my crazy brother-in-law Paul, but I swear I wasn’t smashed along with the rest of my family (certainly not as inebriated as cousin Hope!). It’s just… what hath made them drunk hath made me bold! (Speaking of Hope, remember that hideous pale green tunic she was wearing? I wonder… Do you think she was drunk when she dressed herself?) I’m trying to get dinner ready before our guests get here and I need a few things. It would be kind of you to stop at the butcher’s (or is he dead?) on your trip home for some haggis and maybe a nice turkey (you’ll have to carve it, of course, as I’m terrible with that sort of thing… I swear, it’s as if my knife sees not the wound it makes!). Hit the bakery to get some fresh round rolls (I know how you’ve been craving the golden rounds, my love) and vanilla cream tarts for Paul (he’s on this crazy diet where he can only eat blanched foods. I don’t know about you, but I shame to have a tart so white!). Lastly, we’re out of beverages. Stop at the market to take home some milk, as that would be the nearest way (and I could use the whey). If you’d rather get juice or pop, then you can just take my milk for Paul. Speaking of family, have you seen our children? I can’t seem to find them anywhere… Those kids are so frustrating that I swear I’m about ready to dash their brains out! I think I heard one of them cry ‘murder’ in his sleep last night (maybe we should take that painting of the devil out of his room…), but it might have just been one of those disturbing dreams I’ve been having lately. I have been meaning to tell you about them, but it seems like you’re never in bed when I wake up. This insomnia of yours is unnatural. We had that strong sedative in the house, but I seem to have dispensed all of it the last time we had company spend the night. I think I’m going to take you to this great English doctor I know. He seems to want to talk about sleep a great deal. Maybe he can help you out. I just noticed how dirty my hands are from this afternoon. I should really stop playing rugby and pick up some quieter sport like cricket, but I like how violent and manly it makes me feel. The downside, of course, is that it seems like I’ve managed to get blood on ALL my clothes! I’ll have to do a lot of laundry later, and pray that I can get those damned spots out! (Maybe Hope can help me) I know that everything will go off without a hitch tonight. Don’t worry about anything. You just show up, and leave all the rest to me.
"’Cause I’m your lady
And you are my man
Whenever you reach for me
I’ll do all that I can" I’d better go. I think someone’s knocking at the south entry. (We should really discuss doing away with the doorman. He’s always drunk, he never lets anyone in, and he keeps talking as though the devil is around. What, in OUR HOUSE?)
Your dearest chuck,
Lady
P.S. That Celine Dion reference reminds me… I seem to have misplaced my nice new ‘Heart of the Ocean’-sized diamond, and I really wanted to wear it to show off to the family. You’ll have to ask Duncan for another to replace it. Oh… damn… Well, maybe he gave some extras to Banquo and you can… Wait… damn. Hmm… Oh! The Thane of Fife has a wife! I suppose I can talk to Lady Macduff about borrowing… No… DAMN! Ah well… What’s done is done. Or rather, what’s done cannot be undone. HARK – More knocking. We will discuss it further… tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.