I've been on a movie spree. Because I need to escape the reality of my day to day existence. The fact is, I cannot stand going to work everyday. I dread the thought of opening my eyes to see another day, to serve, to fulfill, to care. On the outside, I crack the same jokes, make witty remarks and give as intelligent an answer where required. And I know I'm doing a fantastic job because people have been telling me how 'happy' I look again. It's easier to feign happiness than having to explain to people that the truth is I just want to crawl into a hole.
And it's not because I hate my job. I'm not in love with it neither but let's not get into that. I just feel an intense desire to break from the monotony of it all.
The reality is I have bills to pay. Deadlines to meet. Bosses to answer to.
I digress. As I said, I've been on a movie spree. Alcohol doesn't do it for me anymore and it's tough on the wallet. DVDs on the other hand bring me to another plane of reality. Or fantasy. Depends how you want to look at it. So for at least 2 hours in my day - 120 minutes of my pathetic life - I disconnect myself from everyone, everything. Here's what's been distracting me:
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
PS I Love You
Mamma Mia! (I've got it on 'Repeat d isc')
Mission: Impossible III (yes, again. Seriously)
A couple of them are still on my 'To Watch' list. It doesn't matter if it's a sappy drama because it's nice to cry buckets over someone else's tragedy. And it's great to laugh out loud at some ridiculous slapstick moment which only Ben Stiller and Robert Downey Jr. as a black man can pull off. With Quarantine, it's the first time in a LONG time I could feel my heart palpitate and get heady over an adrenaline rush. And yes, how I wish I could break into song like Meryl Streep while reminiscing over a lost love.
I love watching movies. I wish I had more time in a day to do it. I wish I didn't feel sleepy by 9:00pm but I do because -the irony of irony- going through the motions during the day mentally, emotionally and physically drains me and all I want to do when my car pulls up the driveway is collapse on my bed.
And I want to get something off my chest: It irritates the shit out of me that when someone asks me, "What's wrong? Wanna talk about it?" and then I proceed to do so, that someone pooh-pooh's my problems and says, "That's such a small thing compared to what I've been through!" Enter pile of bullshit followed by, "Life gets better. You just need a man and some babies and you'll be fine."
Rant over. And so I'll keep watching movies. Because happy endings are so elusive in the real world. Plus, it's cheaper than shoe-shopping, safer than pill-popping and healthier than bar-hopping, no?