Nobody likes things half way
Nine thirty PM is often the one time of day when my wife and I can at last focus on each other. The kids are an hour or so into their slumber, and she and I have finally put our phones down. It’s the time of day when I ask her if she’d like to watch a movie together. Half of a movie, of course.
She’s always a “no.” She can’t watch half of a movie. She’d rather watch it all. I would too, but starting a movie at 9:30 means an 11:30 (or later) bedtime, and we’ve been somewhat compliant with our “early-to-bed” New Year’s resolution.
My campaign for half movies lies in the fact that we have to do things in segments if we aspire to do anything at all. Gone are the days of binge watching and back-to-back hours for personal endeavors. It’s catch-as-catch-can now. If we watch 40 minutes of something here, we can get the other 60 in there. Read a few pages tonight, close the book for days because of work and kids, then open it and read a few more pages later. It’s how I do everything. In installments. It’s like layaway with time: one of these days I’m going to get it all.
Nobody likes to do things half way. Certainly not my wife. But she’s adapted. She knows how to put things down and let them sit for long periods of time. There are few options for nuclear families. We don’t have a Rosie the Robot Maid.
What we do have is the ability to focus on one thing, then magically shift to something else, then magically shift back. A fussy child, a bubbling pot, an incoming text. In many ways, we are sometimes robots ourselves. Now if only we could charge ourselves in more efficient ways, not the eight hours the medical community advises. Imagine the possibilities: we could get back to watching full movies.
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