Granted, I’ve only been home for a few weeks, but being laid up really inhibits day time activities. Considering that it’s still mildly painful to walk which rules out going to the park or even the supermarket without panting like a chain-smoker, and my vision’s still a tad blurry which makes reading virtually impossible, I’m left with staring at the dust bunnies collecting under my cabinets and day time television. And it’s really made me angry. The day time TV, not the dust bunnies. They’ve been there so long I’ve grown a bit partial to them, really.
Currently, the at-home population is an educated one. More and more people are working from home, operating businesses from their home offices, doing freelance work from their kitchens, etc. The climate of the economy has procured a rebirth of entrepreneurs, forcing the general public to be creative in earning their incomes. Why, for heavens sake then, is daytime television hell-bent on addressing the minute population of do-nothings? I mean, I don’t have an advanced degree. I’m no Fulbright scholar. However, I am perfectly capable of choosing the right shade of eyeshadow to match my skin tone. I do not need Robin Roberts to tell me which bathing suits will be “hot” this season. I would rather spend my time changing the 57th poop filled diaper of the day than listen to Whoopi Goldberg talk about sex. Joy Beher makes my already fuzzy eye twitch with anxiety. I believe Rachel Ray shakes down four year olds for recipes. That and her grating, “yummo” earns her a prime daytime TV slot at 10 am? And what are my other options? I thought the popularity of paternity tests and obese babies went out with the nineties. Not so.
Someone must do something. Sign petitions. Write to congress. Those of us who can’t get off the couch for a plethora of legitimate reasons deserve so much more than this and if, in fact, the remote wasn’t so far away, I’d boycott right now. Sigh. Looks like I’m stuck with a Kirstie Alley interview. Someone. Help me.