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Not Doing What I’m Doing

Hi.

So ends the month of January for this blog.

That’s the bleak bit over and done with. Now it’s fun and sun (hopefully—it’s like walking through milk some days). I thought I’d give you something to chuckle at.

A few weeks ago, I went to see Nosferatu. I know—I’m thinking the same thing: guy with cerebral palsy (in a wheelchair, jumps at small noises—though some of us can walk) watching a horror film.

But that gave me something to think about while waiting in the cinema for the film to start.

One… the concept is weird. People pay to sit in a dark room eating popcorn out of soggy cardboard boxes and watch some good-cheekboned guy run around in front of a green screen.

Two… adverts are grim, aren’t they? The acting makes EastEnders look like Casablanca. The messages were grim too. One was an advert trying to get you to join the British Army. I can’t even say “army” without thinking of Gareth from The Office. Here’s the clip (starting at 1:21). That advert was ten times more patriotic than anyone living on British soil.

Another one was about a car accident. That was grim. I can’t even joke about it.

Then the film started.

It made me think: we never sit and just do something anymore. I put The Shining on in my room the other day, and instead of watching, I kept thinking about things that needed doing, songs I wanted to listen to, or what a scam top-up phone data is (I’m on contract).

Even when I’m reading, I can’t just be reading. I have to have a podcast on—or the radio. I can’t imagine Queen Victoria getting her maid to change the record because “Wagner was so last year.”

That’s why I listen to the radio. If I put a playlist on, I skip most of it. Then I replay bits of songs.

I remember  I was in Cancer Research on work placement  when I heard the song Spacer by Sheila & B. Devotion. Here’s the link. Cue me replaying the line:

“At the ready to answer our call
In his own special way, he is gentle and kind.”

I deleted Instagram off my phone for that reason. I could spend years doomscrolling. I keep it on my tablet instead.

Adults are the worst for this. I’ll be watching The Simpsons with my dad, and he’ll be looking through his phone. Or I’ll put a film on for Mum, and she’ll end up talking on the phone for half of it.

I only ever talk on the phone to my editor. I hate the phone—too many awkward pauses and interruptions.

Anyway, that’s enough rabbiting. 

Bye.

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