January, I’ve heard said, is the most depressing month of the year.
(For many, February isn’t much better. And this January in particular brings its own unique brand of wretchedness for many.)
This despite the fact that, with the holiday season and hence the longest night now in the past, not only is a new year upon us but so too are the daylight hours progressively getting longer.
Some days – some years – retreating to a deserted island sounds like a mighty fine proposition.
Of course, it would have to be a tropical island. Being one of those people who is always cold, spending a year on an island in the Arctic – or worse, the Antarctic – would create a whole new set of problems.
I’ve been snow camping before during my great outdoorsy days, but never in -34°C (-29°F).
The only thing I ever lose is my cool.
This is not just a clever turn of phrase. My impatience is probably my worst personality trait – the one with the greatest effect on how I relate to the world around me, and how the world relates back as a result. But all that is a story for another blog post.
For this post, I’m instead talking about lost material items.
I need to watch more TV.
This is a statement one doesn’t often hear, particularly as the days are now getting warmer (at least they were last week; damn you, fickle Vancouver weather!) and longer.
It’s also a statement not often heard from me. Always, I have prioritized writing over TV, to the point that I only allow myself to watch shows on weekends and holidays. Even at that, I’ve decreased my TV consumption of late the deeper I get into the revision of my WIP.
The scene at a recent square dance in Vancouver, BC.
The first time I ever square danced was in Hope, British Columbia.
This was a good six or seven years ago while I was attending a canoeing skills camping weekend retreat with a group of friends. I’m as outdoorsy as the next person, but not specifically into canoeing.
Rather than a desire to perfect my J-stroke, I recall my decision to tag along having more to do with FOMO and, if I’m to be honest with myself, the possibility of meeting new people (read: single guys) since the present object of my affection – who was also in attendance and a skilled canoeist – couldn’t care less about me in that way.
Binge-watching is one of the great luxuries of the 21st century, but it does come at a certain cost.
In my previous post about TV, I discussed the shows I’m currently watching. However, one thing about them that I neglected to mention is that they’re what I’m currently watching, not what’s currently airing.
Indeed, of the five programs, one’s next season isn’t starting until spring, two are on mid-season hiatus, one as of this moment has yet to be renewed for a second season, and the last one went off the air fifteen years ago, so I’m watching the DVDs on my laptop.
I can’t even believe I once altogether stopped watching television.
Such is the power of love, I guess, that because the guy I was infatuated with didn’t like TV, I was able to quit cold turkey, enduring years of long, dark, post-Daylight Savings nights Time without it.
Maybe TV sucked anyway during that period. Or maybe my reading list was a whole lot longer. My reading list is still pretty long – never-ending, in truth – as is my writing schedule rather rigorous.