Farewell, my lovely television

Yesterday I cancelled my Foxtel subscription. Not a huge surprise, given that I’ve been trying to get it cancelled for months, but it seems I was finally given the correct end-date for my contract and I could get the deed done without spending more on the cancellation fee than I would have spent keeping it going until the lease ran out. My credit card, who effectively made this decision for me, is justifiably pleased about this turn of events.

I, on the other hand, am getting twitchy.

Primarily this comes from the fact that pay-TV was my only real option for getting any kind of TV reception in my flat – we’re located in a ditch by the train-lines, which means that internal antennae are next to useless, and the sole external aerial doesn’t feed into my apartment. Since I live alone the television was the primary source of other human voices in my day-to-day life. The flat seems irritatingly quiet in its absence and running DVD’s in the background isn’t quite the same.

On the plus side, I’m starting to make a dent in my to-read pile. And apart from the wrestling and the latest season of How I Met Your Mother, there’s nothing I was actually watching on TV that I don’t have pre-ordered on DVD.

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