My mornings start with Gayle, Nora and Charlie as they share the news in bite-sized clips and four-minute interviews. My day ends with prime time’s best (and not so best), Netflix binges and old reruns of American Dad or Family Guy. Weekends aren’t much better. Marathons and aimless flicks through the channel fill my day. I find that I *do* want to see the latest crime drama/comedy/thriller and convince myself that that previously crappy show is totes the bomb.
Oh yes. I’m hooked.
My wallet, however, calls shenanigans and cries foul regarding my addiction. There have been months where I find myself justifying why Comcast, née Xfinity, deserves a portion of my pay and I come up with all types of justification for why. I work hard, I deserve a reward. It’s necessary.
Not really.
A few weeks ago I made the ultimate decision, packed up the cable box and bid a tearful farewell to my ritual. While I love the antics of Mordecai and Rigby, the amount of cleaning that an episode of Hoarders can inspire or the verdict handed down by one Judge Judy when yet one more girl has allowed one more friend to borrow money/her car/a DVD player I knew it was time to release the boob tube.
The first few days were rough. I replaced one screen with another, movies. If you think there are crappy TV shows, honey how’s about crappy movies? Beautiful Creatures was anything but and even gorgeous Henry Cavill couldn’t save The Light of the Day. Plopping myself in front of the TV to watch movies was almost as bad as plopping myself down to watch TV. At least I had to get up to change the DVDs. After the end of the last borrowed movie played, I shut the television off and did stuff.
Podcasts, forgotten in the haze of Law and Order marathons have gotten listened to. My CD collection has been revisited and I’ve remembered what it’s like to sing along to Ella. (My neighbors, on the other hand, may not want to be jazz babies, but I digress.)
The transition has been more difficult than I would have thought. TV watching is such a part of my life that I had to readjust how my afternoons and evenings were shaped. Instead of coming home and flopping on the couch, I plan my evening a bit more. I spend more time enjoying my deck and reading a book without the drone of the TV. I actually got to work, gulp, on time and tried a few recipes that I kept “meaning” to make but never found the motivation to actually make.
I didn’t realize how much of a crutch television was, is. It’s the buffer during a family visit. It’s an excuse not to connect with family or friends. It’s a distraction from what I want to do and there had to be a change for me.
Don’t get me wrong, when Game of Thrones starts back up and the gladiators begin to roll for Olivia Pope and co., I’ll be the first one tuned in, but for now I’m going to keep the TV off and explore life without the hum of electricity.
Rachée Fagg is a Delaware County, PA mom. This post was adapted from her blog, Say It Rah-shay. 
