A little more than a week ago, back in our hotel room in Istanbul, I found myself reading an article in some on-line publication about the finales of various series on tv and how satisfying, or otherwise, these had been in the estimation of the author. The article was followed by a considerable number of comments and it was when I was some halfway through these that I found myself wondering exactly why I had embarked on reading them, or indeed the article, considering the fact I had watched none of the series under discussion. Not any of them. Not even a single episode - though I had caught odd moments of Game of Thrones.
I suppose reading the comments was a way of passing the time, and it was vaguely interesting to register the genuine enthusiasm of other readers for quite a number of these programmes. But I'm pretty sure I won't be seeking to find time to actually watch any the series in question since I know I have what I consider better things to do with my time.
But there's the rub. Why on earth did one of those better things consist of reading this article? Perhaps this points to the need to adopt a resolution for the year ahead regarding the need to spend limited time effectively? The thing is though that it's daunting to think of trying to maintain some kind of purposeful focus of attention all of the time. The need to goof-off seems deeply written into my DNA.