We all know about my addiction to television. If you’ve been reading me for a while you are probably a little bit worried about my television addiction and the way it could influence my behavior in the real world (seriously? Why is there no underlying score playing against my every move? How else will the rest of the world know what I am feeling?). And, you know, I know that we joke and laugh about how I should take this television addiction and do something productive with it like, write a book or start a television centric blog. For starters I actually do contribute to a television blog on a regular basis–but, and this is sad, it isn’t anything I’d link to here. Oh I’m happy to be a part of the company that runs the blog and all but because I’m supposed to be quasi-professional, I’m not as opinionated over there as I am here and you know, this is coming dangerously close to breaking the “don’t talk about work on your personal blog” rule.
Where was I?
Oh yes. The television addiction. Maybe I should call it the television Addiction because today I realized just how unruly it has gotten. Check it out:
Today Will came home for lunch and we actually ate lunch together at the table. Of course, we didn’t talk much because Will was playing a Final Fantasy game on his Nintendo DS and I was reading a book. You would think that, because our attentions were focused elsewhere, the house would be quiet but no. You silly reader, you underestimate me. The television? It was on. While neither of us were watching it. Because I’m so used to its background noise that I forget that it is there. Lately I’ve left the television on while showering, reading a book and once when I went to the store.
Yeah. That’s not so good. My poor electric bill.
Here is the thing: Television? It is my drug. I fully admit it. It is my escape. It is how I choose to amuse myself during my free time. I love discovering new television shows and I have very definite opinions about what I will and what I will not watch. America’s Next Top Model? Yes. What’sherfaceonMTV’s Shot at Love? No. I have enough useless television knowledge up in my head that I could, plausibly, single-handedly write a Leonard Maltin-esque guide to television. I’m a little bit proud of this, and at the same time I know when it is time to admit that I have gone ’round the bend (look Ma! I’m growing!).
The thing is? I don’t mind the quiet. In fact, I kind of like the quiet. It’s easier to think when it’s quiet and to really focus on my work (okay, duh, but you know what I mean). It’s relaxing and peaceful. And I often miss it in the evenings when, between Will and I, we have four separate electricity hogging boxes all chiming away with television shows, WoW, instant messengers and e-mail notifications and I know that even if I turned off my laptop and the television set? The apartment would still be noisy.
Tomorrow I want to try having quiet all morning long. I have to get up at eight. I predict that I will last until roughly 10:30 (a half an hour after Will has left for work) before I switch on the television set simply out of habit. I’m hoping that I have the sense to remember “Oh yeah! Trying something new!” and turn it back off.
Want some irony? I wrote this blog post while waiting for Monday’s episode of The Closer to download into my Tivo from Amazon. Yeah. Addiction. It’s what’s for dinner.
