Watching regular network TV is more relaxing than streaming videos because someone else curates my evening with police dramas cleaved by commercials and I can time pantry visits accordingly. Nothing salty or sweet can arrest my hunger as I try to pacify this false sense of intimacy.
Streaming video is fussy with its endless options. And because Amazon and Netflix cycle to the next episode whether I’m conscious or not, the next streaming session requires futzing around to figure out where to begin again. Streaming feels floaty, ungrounded. It’s all sky. Food anchors me, breaks my trance.
I rarely eat when I read. The oily fingerprints I might leave. The tea blot. Then the library fines. Hmm. Reading might be an organic appetite suppressant.
Streaming video is fussy with its endless options. And because Amazon and Netflix cycle to the next episode whether I’m conscious or not, the next streaming session requires futzing around to figure out where to begin again. Streaming feels floaty, ungrounded. It’s all sky. Food anchors me, breaks my trance.
I rarely eat when I read. The oily fingerprints I might leave. The tea blot. Then the library fines. Hmm. Reading might be an organic appetite suppressant.
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