A brand new guilty pleasure

Great. A new excuse to procrastinate.

It seems the best guilty pleasures come into your life out of nowhere.

Here’s a little background: I’m listening to an episode of Fresh Air and Terry Gross is interviewing some actress named Phoebe Waller-Bridge that I don’t recall ever hearing about before. They’re talking about her series Fleabag, and they keep me interested just enough to keep on listening.

Days go by and I forget all about it, until it’s a weekend afternoon and I decide to watch something on Netflix. As I scroll through my options, Fleabag pops unexpectedly in my head and it seems like a perfectly good time to give it a try. Next thing you know, I am hooked and can’t stop watching. Mind you, each season has only six 20-something-minute episodes, so it’s pretty easy to quickly go through all of them (I know this is my excuse)

The show is a dark comedy that follows the story of a London woman who’s going through grief and confusion, while tackling friendship, dating, work and family. It’s strange, fun and compelling. Fleabag (the main character) is likeable and unlikable all at once – like a proper complex human being – and that keeps things so real and fresh. It turns out I really enjoy shows about the hardships of modern dating: there were Girls, then Master of None, there also was Sex and the City…umm, what does that say about me...umm let’s not get into that…

Bottom line: watch Fleabag. Coping with life is hard; it feels good to know we’re not alone in our of all messiness. Our beautiful human messiness.

A brand new guilty pleasure

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