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2017, what a time to be alive! It’s kind of a little bit like that feeling you get when you’re in a creepy, isolated house with lots of glass windows at nighttime // you don’t want to look outside because it’s terrifying, but also, you should probably do it anyway just in case there is a psychopathic murderer standing in the woods. A REAL SOPHIE’S CHOICE, Y’KNOW?! It’s enough to drive any decent human being mad, so we’ve decided to ask friends and other cool people to give their two cents on how to remedy the insanity with self-care, whether it’s through YouTube videos, pictures of puppies, pizza…WHATEVER! 

Today’s sanity advice comes from BYT’s newest editorial intern, Arielle Witter! Here’s what she says:

Our new President has been in office less than a week and it’s already starting to feel like the world is ending. Living in D.C. and being in sheer denial that my beloved President Barack Obama is no longer in office, I spent most of my weekend locked in my apartment doing what I do best – watching Netflix.

I’m a firm believer that a good Netflix binge is really all you need to keep yourself sane and not completely fall apart out in the real world. So what’s kept me sane are two cleverly written British romantic comedies I was able to find on Netflix this weekend.

Now, I’m not talking the usual suspects like Love Actually or Bridget Jones’s Diary, which can easily be found on Netflix. I’m talking about the clever few films you have to dig a little deeper to find. I found myself clad in sweatpants and completely sprawled out on my couch watching Lake Bell and Simon Pegg have a wild night out in Man Up, and Rose Byrne’s marriage hilariously crumble in I Give It A Year.

Why has this kept me sane, you ask? The movies kept me from losing my cool for the sheer and literal distraction they provided from an otherwise somber weekend. Both movies pulled me away from what was happening on my television (ahem, the Inauguration and all the nationally broadcasted festivities that came along with it), and made me firmly believe that for a short 90 minutes I was in an entirely new country far, far away from our brand new President.

On top of that, another thing that’s kept me sane and imagining myself somewhere far from the US of A is Ernest Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast. Think Midnight in Paris, but the real life first-person account of exploring the City of Lights in the 1920s.

If imagining myself elsewhere in the world is going to be how I handle the next four years, then so be it.