Netflix over People

I am someone who uses WhatsApp quite extensively. Mostly for BS purpose. Like putting up twenty status stories per day and discussing outfits or MCCU. Or having endless but incoherent filthy chat with BFF. Or mild flirting with few men who actually bore me to death. So basically it's more of a mindless habit than an actual addition. Same goes for Instagram. Few days back one of my best friends called me and said that some fashion page on Instagram had reminded her of me and that had made her call me. Needless to say, I hurled a flurry of worst cuss words in response. But really, you can't blame her.

Not long back I finally joined the 'elite' class of people who watch Netflix and 'chill'. Honestly, 'chill' has never been a word in my vocabulary. Mostly because I never chill. A person with anxiety disorder never chills. And also, given a chance I would prefer some fancy, Victorian synonym for the word. Somehow, the word 'chill' always reminds me of some hippie teen painting graffiti on Metro station wall. And that's just not my favourite kind. I Netflix because I have nothing better to do. I am an odd sociopath with intimacy issues who prefers being in the company of imaginary folks.

I am not a people's person. I am sensitive, deeply compassionate. I am funny. I can be very garrulous given the right company. I am moderately amicable and helpful. But still I am not someone who enjoys serving a lot of people or having people around or even talk to them regularly. I prefer fictional characters over the real ones. Even in love I am much better at yearning rather than doing all the nasty work to maintain a relationship. And most importantly, I am a  highly misunderstood person. And Netflix has fit into my life like a missing piece of jigsaw puzzle right away. I can actually switch off my phone and immerse myself in the magical world of serial killers, kid with telekinetic superpower and morally dubious detectives. It's much better than reading someone's semi-horny messages with a deadpan expression, or messed up manchild's incessant whimpering and pretending to give a shit, or worst, picking up phone calls from people who don't know when to shut the fuck up. The last time I would actually enjoy having hours of conversation was when I was dating my last boyfriend. And that was before he turned into an energy vampire psychopath and made my life hell. Basically I love assholes who can tickle my brain cells.

Netflix has saved my life. It has given me a sense of purpose. I know this sounds utterly pathetic. Well, I am pathetic. I have no life beyond my work. And a sheer lack of personal life is turning me into more and more of a workaholic. I obsess over my work 24x7. I dream of my work when I am asleep. Every time my phone rings my heart skips a bit thinking some asshole senior from Calcutta might be trying to have my ass on a platter.  My anxiety issues are getting worse by day. Thank god the place where I live is semi heaven. Otherwise I would be dead long back. Everything has a flip-side though. An opportunity cost. An unfinished mystery novel is lying neglected on my bedside table. Not to mention I got another book as gift last week that I haven't even opened yet. And the other night I got sleep paralysis by having a dream that masked killers had broken into my house. When last night there was an earthquake and my bed was shaking violently even in my panicked state I imagined for a second that someone might be hiding under my bed.

Netflix and chill? Nope. Netflix and try to ignore my existential crisis temporarily. I know. Not a catchy tagline. But apt nonetheless.