Over these past few years, which will be remembered for our obsessive need to document every banal thing, time has become a little loopy. For example, that flashpoint story that has yielded thinkpiece and counter-thinkpiece – was it published three days ago, or three weeks ago? Things move so fast when you live on the internet.
I’m now used to feeling perpetually late to the party, arriving with a joke crafted in what I assumed was the current meme format, only to find my internet-kin has moved on to something new. It’s the same with TV. Everyone’s watching the same 17 shows (hello, Altered Carbon and, soon, The Good Fight) and discussing them right after bingeing. In an attempt to simplify things, I’ve decided that life is too short to feel constantly left out like this, and so I’ve let go.
No more feeling bad or oddly guilty about being late. If I am supposed to see all 12 episodes of that new Netflix show, I’ll get to it. Some day.
In that vein, guess what I began watching recently? Broadchurch. That’s right – the hottest TV show of 2013. Gripping, isn’t it? Perhaps you heard of another little thriller, starring the powerhouse known as Olivia Colman – The Night Manager? I heartily recommend it. And with the recently released trailer of the second season successfully ignored, I can reveal that I just finally began seriously watching last year’s The Handmaid’s Tale, and yes, the critics were right, it’s flawed but electric. My verdict? Watch it. Now, or later. Your call.
The side-effect of being late to everything is… blessed peace. I am finding joy in spacing a season out over months, rather than bingeing it to keep up with the hot takes. I might begin Mad Men next month.
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