The Wonders of No TV

My husband and I got rid of our TV service several months ago, and I can't say I miss it all that much.  Instead, we stream Netflix to our TV and love it.  Hmmm....pay for hundreds of special interest and shopping channels, or download only what I want to watch with no commercials...let me think about that for a minute.

It's had a few unexpected side effects, however.

On the bright side, I find that not being bombarded with ads that I have to sit through has decreased my desire to buy shit I don't need.  I'm an incredibly careful consumer, provided I'm properly medicated, and can usually talk myself out of anything.  Even as skeptical as I can be, ads can instill an inane or over longing in my subconscious, depending on the level of dissatisfaction in a particular area of my life.  

If it's home organization stuff, I can just picture perfectly organized closets and drawers that would impress my husband so much that he would be inspired to put something away in the same place more than once.

Kitchen gadgets?  Blech.  No desire there.  Ever.  Even as cool as it would be to press mini-burgers, mini-burgers would lead to mini-buns, and mini-buns just might lead to making other pointless, tiny foods.  Tiny hor d'ouerves could lead to attempting to entertain every once and a while, which would require crawling out from behind the computer screen.  Oh, the horror!

Cool laundry stuff?  Tempting.  I bought some steamy balls, not the kind I'm offered within the bounds of marriage, but the kind that you fill with water and pop in with your clothes.  They pound and steam your clothes in the dryer.  Love them for instant ironing in the morning.  Not so much for actually drying clothes, like the manufacturer claims.  Last I checked, more water means more drying time.  The manufacturer also failed to mention the fact that it makes the dryer sound like mortar shells bursting in your basement.

I noticed the other day that there was a dark side to not being exposed to TV ads.  I was at our weekly folk band practice and my toddler was having trouble sleeping.  The room we usually pitch his pack 'n play in was taken, and we didn't think to put it in my friend's downstairs.  So, rather than move the play pen, I took my poor, hysterical little guy downstairs and snuggled him while watching CNN.  

Then, the inevitable commercial finally came.  Despite fierce resistance, the part of my brain that battles the desire to pointlessly consume had atrophied in the commercial-free prior months.  Commercial DSL service for $199.99 a month?  The hell, you say!  Sign me up, bitch!  I'll start a business to have that shit, despite my innate ability to lose money at business ventures!

Elliot had the good grace not to point and laugh.  He was busy charming my best friend's sister-in-law.

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