I have lived eight months without TV.
Sounds awful, huh?
Prior to moving to York, cable was included in my rent, so I purchased a lovely 32-inch flat screen for my living room. That was a huge accomplishment for my post-college self.
Now, the thing sits on its stand and collects dust — a very expensive decoration.
Why, you ask, do I deprive myself?
Because I can. For the last semester of college, I rented a room in an elderly woman’s house. When we actually turned on the TV, it was usually to watch Anne of Green Gables on DVD or drool over Anderson Cooper.
I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Today, I save at least $100 monthly by eliminating these expenses. This is money I can store away to buy a house — my latest obsession.
I also didn’t sign up for internet, figuring I could use the free public Y-Fi in York or mooch off whatever other public networks exist nearby.
I don’t have Netflix, or the like.
Sure, people think it’s weird when they come over. I find that people our age bank on television to avoid actual human interaction. I’m old fashioned. I like reading and working out instead.
The TV sits there, looking pretty, collecting dust. Sometimes, this 20-something feels like she’s trapped in the body of an 80-year-old woman.