Yesterday, I binge-watched all seven episodes of "Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem and Madness” on Netflix.
If you haven't already seen Tiger King, I don't want to be the one who recommends it to you.
Netflix describes the series as “a jaw-dropping true tale of con artists, polygamy, rivalry and revenge.” After watching just four episodes, I'd have to agree with Netflix's description, but would add, "the series is a 314-minute train-wreck depicting the worst of human nature; it's so bad you won't be able to stop watching." Yet, as I write this, it has an 8.1/10 IMDB score and a perfect 100% score on Rotten Tomatoes... so clearly train-wrecks just make for great television.
I didn't start watching Tiger King because I particularly like the type of reality-show drama this documentary showcases (I don't) or because I like big cats (I don't really like any cats). I did it because social media has exploded with commentary about the show, and as a marketer, I think it's very important that I keep on top of pop culture.
At least, that's what I'm going to keep telling myself.
Because that self-justification is far better than admitting to myself that I wasted over five hours of my life trying to determine whether, if absolutely forced to choose, I was on Team Exotic or Team Baskin.
That's five hours I personally believe would have been much better spent reading a book and expanding my mind. Or playing chess with my two eldest children, an activity I very much enjoy. Or going on a very long walk and getting some much needed fresh air (and exercise) after spending two weeks social-distancing in my house.
But instead, I chose to watch Tiger King.
"Wasting time" is relative.
The good news is that what other people think about how you spend your personal time is irrelevant; what matters is how you feel about how you spend your time. This means it's perfectly okay