See You On The Timeline

I want to know what happens.

The other day I cried on the way to work because I haven’t sat down to devour a book in a day since I had my baby. And I can’t see a situation in which I can anytime soon.

I have a hesitancy to not start anything because I worry, I’ll get too far into it and not be able to think of anything else. I’ve tried to watch K-Dramas in every spare second (even at work – don’t tell anyone), I’ve locked myself in rooms with books, not emerging until I’ve finished reading and I’ve been to midnight screenings of films. This isn’t about my fear of letting go and worrying that my passions will leak into all elements of my life, and I won’t be able to contain them, like one long-time psychologist thought.

Whilst it may not seem it, I’d say that I’m a patient person – though it’s always strange to accept what positive attributes someone says about themselves as fact. I don’t even think this comes from a place of impatience, but rather a skimming over the emotions. I read quickly, sometimes my eyes dart from paragraph to paragraph, sometimes I even fast forward conflicts or never rewatch seasons in which characters who are usually friends aren’t talking. I’ve lived through it once or can anticipate how it will make me feel and I’d rather not sit in that. Non-fiction media provides enough situations in which I can feel like that. As does life.

Although if I start a mystery novel, I’ll want to know who did it and why. If I begin a romance, I’ll need to keep reading to ensure they get together. If I was being drip fed the media – episode by episode, instalment by instalment – I’d have to wait. But that’s not often the case anymore anyway.

I was ready to hit play on the final episode of The Lincoln Lawyer after watching episode 9, the second last episode. My boyfriend said that he didn’t want to watch anymore, and we should save it for tomorrow, so we don’t race through it, he said. I told him he was cock blocking me. We laughed, but I was serious.