I don’t watch a whole lot
of television. This is a fact yet a lie
all at the same time.
I often times will turn
the television on just to have noise in the house. I like to have sports on, and I’ll often watch
mindless stuff like NCIS reruns and
reruns of Say Yes to the Dress. I used to watch a lot of HGTV, but they’re
down to about three shows now because all the good ones have moved to DIY
network, which I only get in the living room, and I’m not often just sitting in
my living room.
Probably the only shows I
watch as seasonal series are Wicked Tuna
and TURN. I know, I know. This means that I cannot participate in all
the watercooler talk about Game of
Thrones or The Walking Dead or
any of the latest trending shows. I
tried watching Breaking Bad but it
didn’t interest me. A fan of Burn Notice, I’ll probably try out the
new series by the same people, a series starting on Thursday called Complications.
About six months ago my
sister lent me one of the books that gives the background on General George
Washington’s Revolutionary War spy ring, the subject matter of the series TURN.
It took me three very dedicated hours of watching episodes of the show
before I was actually hooked, and I’m glad I stayed with it. Although the characters are loosely based on
real people, it sure is an interesting slice of history taken with a lot of creative
liberties. All this makes me anxious to
read the book and get to the truth.
The problem, though, is
that I haven’t really had the time to put into reading anything non-work related. Today after finishing a mountain of
correcting, I decide that I am going to start the book. I mean, I’d seriously like to return the book
to my sister at some point in both of our lifetimes, and I’d like to read it
while freshly off season 2 of the television show so I know some of the major
players.
I grab the book and start
reading a chapter. I try to put it aside
so I can get some more work done.
Instead, I decide it’s a gorgeous day out, so I head outside to the
patio with the book. I read another
chapter and another and another. Before
I know it, I’ve grazed for food a little bit to keep me going, juggled two
loads of laundry on autopilot, and engrossed myself in over one hundred pages
of the book. If I didn’t have to eventually get some sleep and actually go to
work tomorrow, I’d read the whole damn thing cover to cover without
interruption.
I do not watch a whole lot
of television; I do not read much anymore.
Both statements are the truth and lies, though, because when I do manage
to get to either activity, it’s as if the whole rest of the world just doesn’t
exist. I may not do either activity much,
but, when I do, I do them deeply. I
guess that makes up for it and almost puts me in the “normal” category. Almost.
Okay, so much for the
blog. I’m going back to George Washington’s Secret Six now. Maybe, just maybe, I might reach a tolerable
stopping point by midnight.
