I've never been a big watcher of t.v. or film. I've always fled from both, instead playing games on my computer.
Since Tom left, I haven't felt very much like doing that, and have been trying to get out, read, write, and do other things.
In the last two days, though, I've watched the whole first season of Sex and the City--two sittings, six episodes per sitting--and I've realised something: If a body does something like that every once in a while, or has a marathon viewing with friends, it can be fun. But if this becomes a habit, a way to fill days, get lost in a fantasy world and not think, then it's no different than endlessly playing on the computer, or drinking, or sleeping too much, or having sex too much with too many people.
I might have spent a lot of time over the last few years numbing out by playing endless casual games on pogo.com, or spending hours running missions in Guild Wars, but I now realise that I wasn't the only one trying not to think.
The revelations continue.