|Done and DONE|
No, I'm talking about, like, OK...when a character on TV or in a movie is climbing into bed, I get super jealous of them. Even if I'm not tired and the last thing I want to do is sleep (PSHAW), I still get jealous because BED IS SO COMFORTABLE, WHO DOESN'T WANT TO GO TO THERE? I feel like I've been spending my entire life trying to make my bed look as inviting as the beds do on TV, all fluffy comforter and just the right amount of pillows, and I think I'm finally there, yet I spend very little time sleeping compared to how often I WANT to be sleeping.
It’s not just the sleeping thing, though. Joe and I have been watching The O.C. and lately I've been very jealous of the Cohens. And not for normal reasons, like that they live in a giant house with an infinity pool or because their days are full of witty banter or that they're so rich that Seth can destroy his Range Rover and he gets in about as much trouble as I used to for not refilling the ice cube trays. No. It's because, every morning, they have all this time for a breakfast routine. The kitchen, as in so many TV shows, plays an important role. It's where storylines are hashed out, it’s where characters gather to eat and share their problems, IT'S WHERE MOST OF THE WITTY BANTER HAPPENS.
|AND THEY ALWAYS HAVE BAGELS!|
Not only do the Cohens have a really great kitchen, but they seem to have a million hours in the morning to spend in it. I don't know about you guys, but even though Joe and I have made time to eat breakfast at home in the mornings (together, even), it still doesn't leave us a lot of time to sit around trying to out-quip one another. We get five minutes for that, tops. Sure, we could have more time if we got up earlier but why on Earth would we want to get up any earlier than we have to?
Also! On TV, whenever they're getting ready for work/school/whatever, it's always sunny outside already. In my world, the sun usually isn't out until I'm leaving the house and sometimes it's not even out until I get to work. When I worked farther away from home, I could drive to work and, some mornings, watch the sunrise in my rearview mirror. (In related news, that is the saddest sentence I've ever typed.)
I know that it's crazy to expect TV to depict anything in a realistic light. I know that Slayers don't exist (to my knowledge) and the FBI has yet to acknowledge a secret division called the X-Files in the basement of the Hoover building, and I know that no normal family can spend hours of time together every morning before going about their daily business. But in order for me to accept the Slayers and the vampires and the multiple-death-having-FBI-agents of this fictional world, I need some reality or my OCD won't let me just enjoy the show.
So, dear fictional characters, please close the front door. Go to the bathroom to do things other than apply lip gloss or do drugs (I don't need to SEE what you’re doing, just a hint will do). Eat breakfast when it’s dark out! I need these depictions of reality in my fiction every now and then, I really do. Otherwise I forget to pay attention to what's actually going on during The Aviator and instead focus on where Howard Hughes was pooping the whole time he refused to come out of his movie theater. TRUE STORY.
|Don't you judge me, Howard Hughes. You pee in milk bottles!|