Box sets. Addiction or escapism?

Box sets. Addiction or escapism?


I sit writing this post and to be honest I would happily sneak off and tuck myself into bed under the sheets with Harvey from Suits for the night.

Or sing badly along with Deacon and Rayna of Nashville. Gosh I’d even go on a CIA mission with Annie and take a hit for the team in Covert Affairs on some trip in the private jet abroad.

Anything to get me out of my head and into the fluff that is a good box set.

My most recent double act of obsessive viewing behaviour (I love them so much I can’t even put all my focus into one set) centers around House of cards and Friday night lights. Both with characters from the South.

I think Friday night lights appeals to my teenage head and lust for nostalgia. While Francis’ Southern drawl in House of cards reels me in every.single.time. Plus I am fascinated by his ability and audacity to be able to PUSH someone onto a railway track and yet get up and eat his cornflakes the next morning at breakfast. Not a bother. Mad man!!

Speaking of which, Mad men was where it all began .

This need for the box set nights in. Sleeping ruthlessly with Don while poor Betty was at home with little Sally and Bobby. Those poor children knew nothing about how mean (and incredibly sexy) and ruthless their daddy was until at least season three.

In the same light I had NO clue Will would go and die on us until it happened, in Episode 5 of Season 5 (to be precise) of The Good wife.

Such mystery keeps you watching, you see.

Men and/or women who live lives that are so far removed from our own. Who drive the sports cars, have fancy clothes. sip whiskey at noon in the office. Or the rich brats with their chauffeurs in Gossip girl. Why do I even watch this nonsense?

In my defence I ONLY spend time with Serena and Blair while I do something else like working in the studio, painting with one eye and one ear clued in to the most recent nail colour disaster at the school prom.

I don’t allow them to have my undivided attention, unlike when Piper is locked in solitary confinement and starts talking to herself. I feel I need to be engaged with the tv at this point to follow the flow of the madness in Orange is the new black.

This is the cool thing about box sets. They cater for everyone, you know?

I just can’t get enough of box sets. I mean, I am not even a year into this wave of religious addictive viewing and it has shaped so much of my life and my thinking. I am like a walking ball of emotion after a box set marathon. Cramming one season into two nights starts to feel heavy when you re enter the real world. From below your bed covers and tear stained cheeks.

I am a fabulous day dreamer.

I take myself out of the daily grind of lists and making sausages and chips and frozen peas for two little mouths to feed, a blog to do and workouts to conquer. I revisit a time when the hubby and I were taking a drive in the car to the north coast of Ireland the day after we got engaged. With the sun beaming in through the front windscreen of my corsa with alloyed wheels and the tape player was stocked with a mix tape he had made me.

I stare at the ring on my ring finger and we smile slowly and lovingly at each other. We talk about ‘us’ and how our mix tape is an expression of our relationship and love. We make scrap books of our concert ticket stubs and the memories of the night we first met. We laugh at the time we ate ham toasties on our first proper date.

In the words of Louis Armstrong “We had all the time in the world”. We.Had. TIME!!

Time. Right there before our eyes and ring fingers and sun beam covered corsas. When did we lose this time?

Somehow the alloyed wheels were exchanged for a seven seater people carrier, my poor ring finger lost it’s engagement ring four years ago (oh the shame)and the only time I hold a gaze long enough in my husband’s face is when he has riled me so much that I glare at him with googly eyes and whisper abuse through gritted teeth.

So box sets it is.

We shamelessly swapped long drives and day dreaming for box sets and sofa marathons. You find the same?

Some people blame the children but I know plenty of single people and couples without children who openly dedicate 24(there’s another one on my box set hitlist) hours or maybe even forty hours of their weekend to this “sport”.

And I think this is alright.

Don, Blair, Harvey, Annie, gosh even Lyla, Eric, Tami and Tyra (friday night lights reference) have all the glamour and fluffiness and comedy and raw (fake acted) emotion that I need to get into that escapism mode.

They are my friends on a weeknight, they are accompanied by my husband and a glass or three of prosecco at the weekend (Wild weekends. WILD).

They sure make me smile.

The only time that smile leaves my face is if I look across the sofa and my husband is scrolling twitter on his phone which indicates to me that he has watched some episodes WITHOUT ME!!

And this my friends is a whole other blogpost – the etiquette of box set viewing.

Let’s just watch one more…


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