A Sad Day

Today is a sad day. A day of distraught. Of tears. Of loss. A day filled with misery, ending with crippling loneliness and despair. For today is the day that I am not allowed to watch EastEnders. And I am heartbroken.

I recently started my masters in TV Fiction Writing because I am so smart and the best writer and super hot. One module is writing for an existing long-running television drama, aka soap operas, and we are doing work on current story lines. So naturally, we gotta watch the shit out of EastEnders. And, boy! Have I ever!

I fucking love soap operas. There is so much going on! So much happens in 30 minutes. 30 minutes! That’s barely any time at all, but during that time six characters die, everyone gets pregnant, 10 million pints are drank at The Vic, and someone gets married. It’s an intense half hour. Mad intense. I love it. I love it so much.

I used to be obsessed with soaps when I was younger, and I realised this was happening again. It’s so easy to. You’re drip fed these characters right into your own home, and you get to know them over a prolonged period of time. You see them at their highs, their lows and everything in between (except swearing, or naked. Good ole watershed.) Soaps basically never end- the story lines are continuous, so at the end of each episode- they always leave you wanting more. Things are rarely resolved. You get hooked. It’s like drugs but without the comedown.

Except. Except. Now I am going through withdrawals. We are not allowed to watch tonight’s episode. It is forbidden. It is the apple hanging in my Eden, and I want to reach out and have one juicy bite, but I can’t. I won’t. Our task tomorrow is to storyline what we think this week’s episodes will be, based on how last week ended. So if we watched tonight’s episode, it kind of defeats the purpose. Gets rid of the whole “predict what is going to happen” element.

But man alive. What I would give to find out what is happening in Albert Square. What’s Martin going to do to Ben? Is Sonia going to be wracked with guilt? I don’t know. I won’t know. I am not going to find out.

How could they do this to me? How could they rip my heart out and pretend it’s for my own good. Why must everything I love be taken away from me. Why doesn’t the world want me to be happy? Can’t I have some joy? I deserve to see Jack Branning. I am worthy of Linda. I am a good person.






I’ll just watch it tomorrow, after class.

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