There used to be a time when I had a job that was just a job. I got in at 8:45am, I left at 5:30pm, and I felt like I had all the time in the world for letting my imagination run free.
I learnt languages, cooked amazing mid-week meals, entertained friends, interior decorated, crafted blog posts, planned travel adventures, maintained and ticked off a list of things to see and do.
There was a time when I never watched TV. When “down time” was researching a new country to explore.
That was then.
A time when my imagination ran wild and free.
These days, I work a little harder. And longer. And pretty much never switch off.
The issue with working to the point of mental exhaustion is that your mind runs out of steam. My imagination, so often described by others as over-active, lies in a heap at the bottom of a pile of mundane tasks. When I can’t even find time to make an annual dental check up, it can be pretty difficult to make time for much at all.
Enter the TV.
One late night, desperate to unwind from a long day, and looking for nothing other than mindless relief before I knew I would fall into bed, I hit upon the perfect escape from a hard day’s work: Geordie Shore.
A reality TV series comprised of dumping a group of fiery tempered, sex on the brain, hardcore drinking kids into the one house and watching how much damage they can do. Oh yeah. Pure carnage.
Now don’t get up in arms: just wait a second, and hear me out.
First of all, there are hot bods (even if they are attached to ridiculous talking heads). Secondly, there’s a lot of talk about poo (and everyone knows how much I love a poo story). There’s over the top one liners, the most unbelievable tantrums, incessant star crossed lovers (with a tad more screaming and swearing than in Shakespearean days) and the best thing? You sit and literally think through the whole thing “are these people real?”
I love it. My brain has to do zero work (apart from wondering if they’re real of course) except laugh heartily at the outrageousness of it all. And THAT is exactly what I need after a days hard slog.
Pure and utter escapism has won. Imagination has left the building. And sometimes, that’s ok. Plus besides, at the end of the day, it’s my imagination that still takes flight as I drift off, dreaming of false lashes, fake tans, and distant lands.