There are plenty of TV shows that fail to excite, but few that manage to do so in such winning fashion as the UK daytime reality show
By the time my 40th birthday rolled around last year, I was well-prepared for middle age. Tired? Tick. Stressed about finances, children, marriage and the imminent demise of the planet? Tick. A newfound appetite for milquetoast TV? Tick.
The upscale buffet of high-quality TV on offer these days has come, unfortunately, at the wrong stage of life for me. Waking up every day in 2019 brings so many psychic challenges: even scanning the news headlines each morning feels like an extreme sport. The last thing I want to see before I go to sleep each night, then, is a comely assassin repurposing a vintage hairpin as a murder weapon, or a corpse being dispensed with in a barrel of hydrofluoric acid. But it’s taken me years to learn that the quality of the television shows I’m watching doesn’t correlate with my value as a human being. No matter how low or high end your viewing habits might be, in the end it all involves staring at a screen while eating ice cream in your PJs.
Continue reading...from The Guardian https://ift.tt/2Nm5tzL
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