I had such high hopes for that Sunday. It was a rainy day, which fit in perfectly with my plans: I was going to clean the house, do some laundry, finish my assignment for work and get some writing done.
The day started promising: After only half an hour of reading in the bed and two cups of coffee, I got up and exercised. After that, I walked the dogs. In the rain. That's dedication!
By the time I got back it was 1pm, more than enough time to have a shower, eat a nutritious lunch and then get down to work. I was more than a little smug by this point about the kind of accomplished adult I was that day. Look at me! Doing that grown-up thing like its nbd!
By the time I got back it was 1pm, more than enough time to have a shower, eat a nutritious lunch and then get down to work. I was more than a little smug by this point about the kind of accomplished adult I was that day. Look at me! Doing that grown-up thing like its nbd!
That was my first mistake. Being smug is never a good idea.
The smugness led me to thinking that I deserved a treat, in this case a hot, luxurious bath instead of the much quicker shower. "I still have plenty of time" I assured myself. "I deserve it for being so disciplined this morning. Also, it's raining." A bath it was. To my credit, I did not pour myself a glass of wine like I wanted to - after all, it was only early afternoon. But I did think about it.
After my feet were sufficiently wrinkled, my legs and underarms freshly shaved, hair washed and conditioned, my skin ex-foliated and moisturised within an inch of its life, I was ready to get to work. My lunch had been eaten in the tub (look at me, being such a multi-tasker!), so I sat down on my desk. Rich had left to visit a friend, the laundry was in the washer, and I had nothing but peace, quiet, and time.
That's when I made my second mistake.
"It's only 2pm", the devil on my shoulder whispered into my ear. "You have plenty of time. Go on, watch one episode of The Mindy Project. I know you want to. You deserve it."
That sweet-tongued scoundrel. I knew I shouldn't listen to him, because who in the world watches only one single episode of a show on Netflix? Show me that person and I'll pay them a million dollars to teach me their ways.
I don't have a million dollars, but I'm not worried. Because that person doesn't exist. The whole purpose of Netflix is to binge-watch TV, right? But still, every time I turn it on I'm telling myself that I will watch "only one episode". Hrumph, as if. I'm disgusted at my self-deceit.
Four episodes later, I paused for a moment to regroup. Also, to get a drink and snacks. By that time it was 4pm, which meant I still had most of the afternoon and all evening left. As I was standing in the kitchen, waiting for my toast to be done, I gave myself a little pep talk.
In my sternest voice I told myself that play time was over, and it was time to get some shi*t done. Just one item of my to-do list, it didn't matter which one.
That's when I made my third mistake.
After assembling a beautiful PB&J sandwich, I sat down again in front of the computer. "I'll just turn Netflix back on while I eat, and get to work as soon as I'm done."
Yeah, right.
Hours later I emerged, bleary-eyed and in a daze. At that point I didn't even feel relaxed or refreshed, but cranky and dissatisfied. I was mad at myself for wasting an entire afternoon watching fictitious people live their fictitious lives, instead of living my own.
"But their lives are so much more entertaining than yours" the devil - or was it the angel this time? on my shoulder told me. That was true. It made me feel a bit better.
When you have the choice between cleaning the house (meh) or binge-watching Mindy, there really is no contest.
I guess what I'm trying to say with this post (I lost track about the original reason some time yesterday - this is the slowest I have ever written anything), is that it's nice to escape real life once in a while. Cleaning and paying bills and worrying about real life stuff like should we sell the horses?, or the corgi likes daddy more than me, or what to get my MIL for her birthday, are such a drag. It's nice to take a time-out from it.
Originally I wanted to name this piece "Netflix is ruining my life". Because I felt like such a loser yesterday for not crossing all the things off my list, and I blamed the addictive nature of Netflix for it. But after writing it all down and reflecting on it, I realize that it's actually the opposite: It's helping me to keep my sanity.
We can't always have exciting, blog-worthy lives. Sometimes, all you can do is trying to somehow keep it together, and instead of freaking out, to escape into fantasy land.
In my sternest voice I told myself that play time was over, and it was time to get some shi*t done. Just one item of my to-do list, it didn't matter which one.
That's when I made my third mistake.
After assembling a beautiful PB&J sandwich, I sat down again in front of the computer. "I'll just turn Netflix back on while I eat, and get to work as soon as I'm done."
Yeah, right.
Hours later I emerged, bleary-eyed and in a daze. At that point I didn't even feel relaxed or refreshed, but cranky and dissatisfied. I was mad at myself for wasting an entire afternoon watching fictitious people live their fictitious lives, instead of living my own.
"But their lives are so much more entertaining than yours" the devil - or was it the angel this time? on my shoulder told me. That was true. It made me feel a bit better.
When you have the choice between cleaning the house (meh) or binge-watching Mindy, there really is no contest.
I guess what I'm trying to say with this post (I lost track about the original reason some time yesterday - this is the slowest I have ever written anything), is that it's nice to escape real life once in a while. Cleaning and paying bills and worrying about real life stuff like should we sell the horses?, or the corgi likes daddy more than me, or what to get my MIL for her birthday, are such a drag. It's nice to take a time-out from it.
Originally I wanted to name this piece "Netflix is ruining my life". Because I felt like such a loser yesterday for not crossing all the things off my list, and I blamed the addictive nature of Netflix for it. But after writing it all down and reflecting on it, I realize that it's actually the opposite: It's helping me to keep my sanity.
We can't always have exciting, blog-worthy lives. Sometimes, all you can do is trying to somehow keep it together, and instead of freaking out, to escape into fantasy land.
Which is where I'll be now. Mindy, here I come!
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