Maybe it’s just the hiatus getting to me, and I’m probably (definitely) completely overthinking things, but the more I ponder Mycroft and Joan’s relationship the less sense I can make of it. Their one night stand in London and subsequent relationship came so far out of left field I have no idea what the writers were thinking. We’ve seen that Joan sort of has a ‘type’, and if Mycroft had fit this type, I wouldn’t really have questioned it. But he doesn’t.
And from all the conversations we’ve seen Mycroft and Joan have, it’s nearly always about Sherlock, or where their relationship (with no chemistry between them) is going (nowhere fast).
So the conclusion I’ve come to is just that Mycroft has a huge brother complex and he’s in a way subconsciously using Joan to be closer to Sherlock. Not that she doesn’t have her own amazing qualities and she’s totally a catch, but just… the entire way Sherlock and Mycroft’s relationship has been presented, with Sherlock resenting Mycroft for some as-yet-unknown crime, and Mycroft’s persistent desire to make up with his brother, and Mycroft actually approaching Joan for how to be closer to Sherlock.
I mean, their first real conversation is almost entirely centred around Sherlock, and you can just see how Mycroft is completely captivated by how Joan was able to breach the ten metre high, five metre thick wall of barbed wire and “KEEP OUT” signs Sherlock had built around himself.
It just doesn’t seem a stretch for Mycroft to have become enamoured of Joan because he sees her as not just an incredible person who managed to gain Sherlock’s trust and admiration, but also as a way to become like her, to be closer to Sherlock through the only person Sherlock really cares about.
It makes more sense because then it explains Mycroft’s entire attitude about Joan’s kidnapping which seemed more “shit I fucked up now my little brother is mad at me” instead of “oh god the woman I love is being held by cutthroat criminals” and his subsequent exile more like “I’m really sorry Joan, but this is the way the cookie crumbles. But I love you lil bro, this last year has been a gift” instead of “Oh Joan I know it’s all my fault and I promised us a life together and I’m sorry I made a stupid decision and now I have to leave”. I mean, am I crazy for thinking Mycroft and Joan’s relationship sort of stumbled along, winding around Sherlock, then ended with a sad whimper?
When I was a kid one of my biggest pet peeves was eating leftovers, or eating food that’s not meant to be cold/lukewarm (e.g. sushi is meant to be eaten cold. Leftover rice that’s just on the table is a big no-no). That sounds really spoiled, I know, but to me microwaves existed for a reason, and that was to make food palatable again.
But now, as I’ve grown older and life has become crueller, I begin to just… not care anymore. I begin to understand why so many adults would come home, slump over the table and just shovel food in their mouths like they didn’t care what they ate, it was just fuel for another day in the grind.
It also says something, I think, when McDonald’s and instant noodles used to be such a treat, but now it’s just a very last resort sort of ‘my desire to not cook and need to eat outweighs any health concerns.’
Nowadays I eat what’s in front of me, and unless it’s actually cold I will get up and reheat it. I feel like I’m beginning that slow slide towards apathy and having the joy of food being sucked out of me just because… I don’t know, existential crisis? Not-yet-even quarter life crisis? The general despair of being yet another millennial floundering about for a direction in life?