Polly Gillespie: Spoiler alert - Attempt at Dalai Lama attitude fails at the first hurdle

'Instead of living my day like I was the Dalai Lama undercover, I lived my day like a drunk Dalai Lama undercover on a very, very, very bad ...'. Photo / AP

Opinion

Browsing bleary-eyed through my Facebook newsfeed, and pausing to read briefly about someone's "super" cross-fit success (Oh, joy!) and the tragic tale of someone else's child projectile vomiting on the new carpet - why is that EVER a socially acceptable Facebook status update? - I scroll down to a motivational meme that causes my speed scroll to pause: "Live every day like you are the Dalai Lama undercover."

Nice. Yes nice. I like it. It's a starter challenge for the spiritually adrift. Lord knows I can be phenomenally intolerant and huffy. Very well, oh scrolling fortunes of Facebook, I'll take that mystic challenge. Certainly it must be easier than attempting cross-fit. Right? Damn it! I will live my life today like the nicest, kindest, most tolerant godly figure on earth.

I'm slightly disappointed the meme didn't instruct me to live my life like the Pope undercover, that would have given me way more leeway and chances to rant and decree cool weird stuff at will.

I decided I would begin my ninja spiritual crusade dealing with email and Facebook messages. Something that normally has me swearing like a drunken sailor.

Every day I take a long deep breath, do a pre-eye roll and through gritted teeth, tell myself: "It's okay. It's not them, Polly, it's you. Don't get stroppy."

First email:

Polly [No 'Dear'. Not a good sign.]

Well thank-you very much for spoiling MKR for me. I didn't see it last night and recorded it to watch today, and now it's a waste of time because you talked about it on the radio today. Well that's it. I'm not listening to you anymore. You should have said 'Spoiler alert'. What is wrong with you? Take your fat fingers out of TV and leave them in radio. Karen.

What would the Dalai Lama reply? (Pause.)

What would the Dalai Lama reply? (Pause.)

Screw the Dalai Lama! (Not really he's a lovely chap!)

Dear Karen,

Lovey [It's always good to throw in something blisteringly patronising] it's 2014. We live in an age of instant gratification, and immediate, constantly updated internet information saturation. If it is possible to live with your head completely jammed up your own rectum, then please tell me how so that I can do that too!

In further dreadful news - 'spoiler alert' - the Titanic sinks and Jack dies in the frozen sea, and although it would be peachy if Jenny lived with Forrest until they're old and grey 'like peas and carrots' that doesn't happen either, because life IS in fact a box of chocolates and Jenny bites the bad chocolate.

It's only a spoiler if it's something that has not gone to air on PUBLIC free TV. Once it is broadcast free-to-air, then it's out there Dollface!!

Polly.

PS: Bill Sykes kills Nancy, and re the "other" show Broadchurch? It was the cop's husband.

So instead of living my day like I was the Dalai Lama undercover, I lived my day like a drunk Dalai Lama undercover on a very, very, very bad ... Perhaps I will try again tomorrow. Perhaps not.