Nina In New York: HGTV Laughs At Our "Spring" And Our Tiny Lives

A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York. The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
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By Nina Pajak

Dear HGTV:

I hereby respectfully request that you quit harshing my buzz.

Yesterday, it was a balmy 58 degrees and we were in HEAVEN. Heaven! We were in sub-heaven on Wednesday too, swinging on the swings with abandon in the glorious, 48-degree sun. We basked. We positively basked! We doffed our jackets and our hats and skipped in the sunlight, or at least we unzipped the outer shells for from our interior jackets and waited a good ten minutes before putting our hats back on. But still. Come on. It's been amazing! I drank an iced coffee (hat on). I chased my daughter around the playground (hat off!).

Then, I came inside, put my toddler down for a nap, and flipped on the TV to my favorite standby: you, HGTV. And suddenly, I felt very, very cold.

We get it, okay? There are people out in the world buying houses and living dream lives in the Caribbean and Hawaii and the South Pacific and South America, and their biggest problem is a surprising lack of cabinet space in their oceanfront mansion. Their lives are filled with equatorial warmth and skies that match their seas and sangria all day long and they have to make decisions like whether it's better to get the house with the ocean and mountain views or the house with just the mountain view. Dang, no, the ocean view. Gosh, I just can't decide which they should get! Wait, wait, I hate these people! Why do I care? Why does anything matter anymore? Crank up the heat, I live in a worthless land of eternal winter.

Listen, HGTV, I still love you. I know why you insist on airing shows focused exclusively on these people. It's addictive. It's aspirational. It's delusional. Show me 22 minutes about wealthy people on a tropical paradise, and then let an advertiser hit me up when I'm at my most vulnerable. I can't have their life, but I CAN have that new light fixture in the kitchen! I can't have an olympic-sized infinity pool overlooking a crystal blue bay, but hey, I DESERVE to redecorate my bedroom. Or can I? No, no I can't. But I can, uh, order that print I've been eyeing for the powder room? Crap, fine, I don't have a powder room. Fine. Are you happy? You lead me down a shame spiral that begins with envy and ends in utter nihilism. I am so weak. I hate myself. I hate you all.

Pipe down there, birds. I'm wrapped in a fuzzy blanket in my basement, shivering and dreaming of a life that will never be mine.

(Psst -- pick house #2!)

Nina Pajak is a writer living with her husband, daughter and dog in Queens. Connect with Nina on Twitter!