Thank you Yogi Bear, or whoever it was invented TV

My post-op status has now reached the vegetative and malingering stage which basically means I carefully synchronise my watching of daytime TV with strategic snack and bathroom breaks at regular intervals.

I really must be at a nadir of mental activity (or it’s an after effect of the drugs) as I managed to sit through the whole of the State Opening of Parliament and the Queens speech without falling asleep or even blinking.

They used to make us watch this at school and I can remember working out, that if my stride was as long as a ceiling tile and if I made two strides a second, then it would take eight seconds to make it to the exit and freedom (never trusted my shaky grasp of mathematics, or my ability to run after being sat cross-legged for an hour to put this to the test though)!

But no, today I sat and watched it voluntarily, even though there were any number of life-affirming chat shows on all the expensive satellite channels I’ve forked out for, and some damn good prime-time treats on my SkyPlus box to watch (SkyPlus is a PVR system, bit like TiVo).

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