Diary of a Voyeur

This could be me, or it could be you.  Let's call her Jane.

Jane wakes up and the first thing she does is peek out through the blinds at the neighbours who are having a row in the street.  The wife is in her pyjamas and her hair is a fright.  Jane smiles inwardly.

During breakfast, Jane scours the local papers, looking for familiar names and faces.

Jane takes her daily constitutional, walking briskly around the neighbourhood, eyes scanning the houses for anything of interest, while she keeps her head straight. There's no point advertising the fact she is peeking into houses.

Over morning tea, she peruses the real estate section of the paper, trying to imagine what life must be like in the picture perfect houses, silently judging them on their choice of decor. 

Online she enjoys the celebrity gossip pages, with the before and after pictures.  Over-inflated lips and dodgy boob jobs!  Really! Jane revels in the superior high ground.

She checks through her favourite blogs and websites, keeping up with the latest happenings.

On the way home, she can't help but stare when she sees two cars twisted at the side of the road, their occupants arguing about who is to blame.

While cooking dinner, Jane watches the news, but really only listens to the stories about people whose names she recognises.

With a glass of wine in one hand and remote control in the other, Jane channel surfs, stopping briefly to watch snippets of fat brides being yelled at by gym instructors, families with dozens of children and more on the way, medical shows with blood and gore, and extreme makeover shows.

Before she heads to bed, she selects a new book from her pile of biographies and autobiographies.

As a final thought, she sits down at her computer and logs into her blog, spilling all her secrets and thoughts to an unknown audience, who wait at their own computers for her to sate their own thirst for voyeurism.