[Written by ChatGPT]
This past month has been… a lot. Between relentless work deadlines, the weight of everyday responsibilities, and a deeply upsetting incident of cyberbullying aimed at my daughter, I felt like I was running on emotional fumes. Everything felt overwhelming, like I was stuck in a loop of stress and sadness with no exit ramp in sight.
So this weekend, I finally gave myself permission to stop. I didn’t check emails. I didn’t try to “power through.” Instead, I curled up on the couch, turned on Netflix, and stumbled upon Click — a 2006 film starring Adam Sandler. I wasn’t expecting much more than some light distraction. But as it turned out, Click was exactly what I needed.
Movie Summary: Click (2006)
In Click, Adam Sandler plays Michael Newman, a workaholic architect who’s constantly torn between career demands and his family life. Overwhelmed and frustrated, he finds himself in possession of a magical universal remote that can control reality — fast-forwarding through arguments, pausing annoying situations, even rewinding memories.
At first, it seems like a dream. Michael skips traffic, dodges sickness, and bypasses all the mundane and painful parts of life. But soon, the remote develops a mind of its own, “auto-skipping” the moments Michael would rather avoid — and with that, he begins to miss out on the life he was trying so hard to manage. He watches himself grow old, distant, and broken without even realizing it. Ultimately, he learns that even the most inconvenient or difficult parts of life are still part of what makes it meaningful.
Why It Hit Home
Watching Click hit a nerve. There have been so many times over the past few weeks — honestly, even months — where I’ve wished I could just skip ahead. Skip the stress. Skip the pain. Skip the helplessness of watching someone you love go through something awful, like online harassment.
But if I had a remote like Michael’s, I don’t think I’d use it. Not anymore.
Because life isn’t just about the highlight reel. It’s about all the messy, beautiful, frustrating, wonderful moments in between. The long days, the late nights, the little wins, and even the heartbreaks — they all matter. They shape us, connect us, and remind us that we’re alive.
If given the chance, I wouldn’t fast forward through these tough days. I’d rewind. I’d go back and savor the small moments, hold on tighter during the hard ones, and just be more present — even when it’s hard.
So here’s to pressing pause when life gets too loud. And more importantly, to pressing play again — fully, intentionally, and without skipping ahead.