Free Write

This is Blogsterpiece Theater.  Welcome all readers.  Hopefully there are some of you who reading this blog who were recommended by the Funk Masta.  I appreciate you.

Today I just want to free write.  There’s always a temptation to research and come up with a clever essay about a movie or current events, but right now I just want to ramble about my observations…coherently I hope.

What I am experiencing, and what many of you have surely been through, is this urge to just soak in all kinds of stimuli and not produce anything.  When I am home from work all I want to do is snack, play with my phone, and watch Netflix.  For the past few weeks, that is the sum of it for me.  Now I’m sure everyone has experienced the fatigue that hits you as soon as you walk in the door.  You’ve worked an eight hour shift, and all you really want to do is get outside of your head for a minute and veg on the couch.  Come to think of it, that’s what America is known for.  And that my friends is why we have so many primetime television shows to chose from.  These shows give us the opportunity to escape from our lives and get involved in some else’s.  The writers are great.  They create believable characters that experience (mostly) believable emotions and situations, and before you know it, Meredith, Derrick, Christina, George, Izzie, Alex, Dr. Burke, J.D., Elliot, Turk, Julian, Ricky, Bubbles, Jack, Sawyer, Kate, Hurley, Theo, Claire, and even Dr. Huxtable himself are part of your family.  You laugh when they laugh.  You cry when they cry.  You crush when they crush.  You pee when they pee (which is I’m assuming during commercial breaks).

But what happens at the end of episode?  Many of us are left wanting more.  Then you click “next episode” and by the end of the night you’ve watched an entire season.  And on to the next one.

My question is “When have I had enough?”  As a person who wants to be creative for a living, there has to be a point when you are tired of taking and you want to start giving.  When do you realize that your mind needs to do some cardio?  It’s bad enough that my body sits in one place and stares at the tv.  I really don’t want my mind to atrophy, too.  (I was just about to ask wether or not you’d want to have fitness or mental dexterity.  That’s a weird question though, because I’d like to have both.  They go hand-in-hand, actually.  I digress.)

This is just personal reflection, but the way.  I’m not trying to demonize television.  I’ll leave that to the baptist ministers and the fitness gurus.  In fact, I have taken some nice material from shows I’ve watched lately.  (See Funk Masta’s Beef on Episode 15)  One show in particular that I have been talking about is GREY’S ANATOMY.  I find myself asking myself (not out loud) how realistic some of it is.  They use lots of jargon and amazing props and people die a lot, but are some of these things that happen on the show possible in a for real hospital.  First of all, there are two interns (I’m only on season 3) sleeping with attendings.  Two.  I thought interns were supposed to sleep with each other.  That’s less drama for the hospital, right?  Also, I’m seriously wondering what the ratio of patients admitted to patients dying is in real life.  It seems a bit high on the show.  Every time someone is on the operating table, I’m just waiting for something to go wrong.  But that just adds to the suspense that keeps us coming back every week.  They probably milk it for all it’s worth.  I mean there was an episode where a dude had a bomb inside him and they didn’t know it till AFTER he was on the operating table.

We don’t want our lives to be boring, so we wish for those days where there’s a bomb in the OR.  That’s more exciting than coming home and putting clothes in the dryer and making SpaghettiOs for dinner (again).  So breaks in the monotony are good.  I don’t want the breaks to become the routine and I’m finding myself just like a sponge soaking up everything around me.  I want to be a used sponge.  An antibacterial used sponge . . . a uh . . . you know, I don’t really know where I’m going with this sponge analogy.  I guess I was trying to say I want to write more without actually saying it.  Well, there goes that.





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