I want!

There are those who tell me they seek adventure and there are others who demand peace. I’ve been both these people and neither side feels like a breeze. Just for the record, as of today I seek peace. I think I have understood why we, or at least I keep chasing that elusive something.

We are the TV generation, we, how much ever we hate to admit it, lack imagination. Most of my definition of a good life was based on sitcoms. Sitting in Central Perk, or working in that high paid corporate where I make money that doesn’t ever get taxed, living it large without bothering about rent or maintenance, obviously there would be none of those nasty bills for electricity, phone, broadband and whatever else I need to be fantastic. The food would be ready just as I wake up, or there’s always that restaurant on the way, of course there was none of that trans-fats. So no matter what I did, life would be FANTASTIC!

Life has an odd little habit, she likes to take your delusions and shatter them, hard. So, in time I got that job, yes it paid well, but it didn’t seem enough. There was no after work life, there were no BFFs made in the work place and there was always the matter of bills, responsibilities and taxes. Being upset became the norm. Life isn’t fair I thought, I don’t have what I want. Everyone else does. She is not as old as I, she’s married, she’s got a better job, better yet everyone loves her, not to mention the iPhone/iPad/MacBook or all of the above! Now these are different hers and sometimes the same. These are just hypothetical targets that my mind would be happy to bash up on request.

A mind, if bestowed with some rationality, questions. Mine did, and am I glad it did. The question was very simple, “what the hell is up here?” Inclined to answer, a mental journey was embarked upon. The journey was long and laboured and didn’t really get anywhere. It just came back to several blanks before I heard the F.R.I.E.N.D.S sound track and I struck gold! I wanted what they told me I should have. I wanted the shiny sitcom life. I wanted to have the million dollar body, the zillion dollar job, friends who would be loyal and affectionate and pick me up from every mess I make. Alas, I wanted the whole nine yards. Unfortunately, everyone I knew also wanted the same things.

When this understanding dawned, I wanted to ban TV and the million sitcoms. I wanted to yell atop roofs or at least tweet about what this damned idiot box had done to me. Then I realised, I was hooked to the hope of someone rescuing me. There shone brilliantly yet another symptom of the sitcom infested mind, nothing was ever my fault, I was the do-gooder victim again. No more, I vowed. Entertainment was escape, but escape isn’t life. 

My pace is slower now, I don't really want all those things, they do start a little stir, I confess. However, now I can walk past them. Life isn't all that bad, just a little more real than that on TV.