This week I binge-watched an entire series on Netflix in a day. I really fell on the sword for you guys with this one.
I have to admit, I looked forward to this for weeks. This time of year I mostly find myself longing to hibernate under couch blankets, so this was a great excuse. I clear my calendar for the day and make sure my favourite cosy socks are clean. I go to bed on time to prepare for the early start; I have to make sure to fit the whole series in. I pick Friends from College as it looks light-hearted and not too long.
Like a finely tuned athlete, I lay out my meal prep the evening before. I buy microwave popcorn and a selection of dips. On waking, it feels like Christmas morning. I have six hours of guilt-free horizontal entertainment ahead of me (minds out of the gutter please).
I construct a nest of blankets on the couch and turn the heating up to full (don’t judge me, I’ve crap circulation). I settle in with morning eggs and coffee. The opening sex scene feels a bit jarring. The show is about a 40-something group of friends struggling with “adulting”. At 11am in the morning, propped up in a nest of blankets eating microwave popcorn and sipping hot chocolate, I can’t relate at all.
Bathroom break
One episode in and I’m delighted with myself. A bathroom break in episode two sees me make a dash into the cold hall. Four episodes in and I’m twitchy but this is slowed by a cheese toastie. Episode six and I’m reaching for my phone a lot, double screening like a restless teenager. I’m jumping between Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and even checking my email. It’s a desperate state of affairs when work emails are entertainment.
Despite the distraction though, I’m really relating to the characters. I’ve started talking to the TV (“Of course he’d say that”). I feel very invested in the plot line (am I experiencing Stockholm syndrome in the comfort on my own living room?) Episode seven and my bum is becoming worryingly numb. I squeeze alternate cheeks to try and rectify this.
Once the end comes, it’s an inevitable anti-climax. Spoiler alert: they break up. I make dinner and talk to myself in an American accent. The room feels very quiet. I look forward to seeing real people the next day.
