A Hobby

These are the days of my life.

Ricky thinks that I need a hobby. I'm sure he doesn't really mind sitting on the couch with me as I binge on whatever the next TV show is that catches my fancy. He is not of the opinion that watching television during my waking hours constitutes a healthy, productive hobby. While I am not awake, the dreams I have tell amazing stories that should be on TV.

Ricky. Being super judgmental.

 One of the possible blessings in my life is that I do not actually have television, per se, but the internet and access to a DVD player. That being said, I do not merely sit down on a Tuesday night and watch my favorite show when it airs at 8pm. I watch it online after it airs. The relationship I have with my xbox is tumultuous. An xbox with Crackle, HuluPlus, Netflix and YouTube that constantly begs to be updated and fed 'points'. Betty teaching Daniel another heartwarming life lesson about why you should be a good person even though your sister faked her own death and your mother was turned crazy by some cheap perfume so she had to kill your father's mistress.

 I also have a tablet of sorts for when the day is too beautiful to spend my time inside, so I spend my day on an adventure with Merlin. He's always getting into trouble, that one.

And when I'm on the go, I grab my trusty smartphone and its wonderful 4G LTE to stream whatever it is I want to (read: HAVE TO) see. NOW. Preferably Jeremy Clarkson burning through another set of tires. Nearly every night, I fall asleep to the dulcet tones of Stephen Fry making fun of the limits of Alan Davies's knowledge.

Ricky got bored this evening as I finished watching Broadchurch and started chasing his tail, so if he can figure out something to do with his time while not watching TV, I guess I can too. I can write about it.