Disaster has struck. Crisis. Aneurysm. Not coping. Not. Freaking. Coping.
Nervous breakdown, nervous breakdown, nervous breakdown, hello???? There I was, after my first day of a new job, kicking off my frigging heels, wanting to post about something else, instead YOU WENT AND RUINED MY LIFE.
Dramatic? Well. Fine – what would YOU do in this scenario?
Turn on the TV – and now onto Channel 10, cos it's moved from Channel 84 – and it's 7:00pm. Ah, just in time for a relaxing, beautiful Australian soap fix.
Mindless piffle I live for. Even if you ignored my last letter about my concerns regarding the soap's soundtrack, I am still a loyal follower, this we know.
Home & Away. But it's not there. I wait for 7:04pm. It's still not there. I get a little heart beat going, as I fumble wildly through the dish magazine and check: the omnibus on Sunday was there, but at 7:00pm, everyday, you have a new programme running.
You. Have. Canned. Home. And. Away. I can't bear it, I just. Can't. Bear. This.
Firstly, I'm over Sudoku – it's boring now. WHAT THE FUCK AM I MEANT TO DO WITHOUT HOME & AWAY TELL ME THAT, HUH, WHAT THE HELL?
I might've been the one person in this country that watched it, but you could ALWAYS rely on my TV to be tuned in at that time – see that little dot over Illovo? That's me. ME. I enjoyed every moment of Kim and Rachel adopting their first baby – AND NOW? I WON'T EVEN KNOW IF THEY SIGNED THE ADOPTION PAPERS!
My little family in Summer Bay, is gone, gone!
And you know the worst thing? No warning. Nothing. No “we'll be airing Fresh Prince of Bel-Air from now on” or “Home & Way will be moving to SABC2” - which would've been GREAT – nothing. It's been ripped from under my feet.
Now I know you don't particularly want to hear about my current state of mind right now, but I think it's worth mentioning. I am going through the void and re-programming of my brain to settle comfortably into single life, try not to miss the person who has gone, I've started a new job, I'm a little bit sad these days, and I am feeling the PRESSURE.
Home & Way relieved or distracted this pressure for a half an hour. All I cared about during that time was whether Jack and Martha were going to get back together, or if Morag finally nails Johnny Cooper for armed robbery, not my late tax returns or my angst. I just loved it - CAN YOU READ THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY FACE – this programme was my little escape from this cruel world!
I actually cannot write anymore, because this feels like the straw that has broken the broken camel's broken back.
Utterly flabbergasted and all other bad emotions,
Peas On Toast Esq. [I'm not a guy, but I don't know the feminine equivalent of esquire right at this traumatic moment].
PS: I devised a little eulogy speech for it, which you might want to publish in dish magazine. Maybe next to the new crap programme you've usurped H & A with. It also defines the severity of the situation:
I loved Home & Away
I fucking loved it
It was Australian
And when Emma's waters broke
I laughed when she said
“I think I just peed myself”
You've taken it off air
And I'm pulling out my hair
I'm.....not...coping.... [cue echo]