Nobody cares about your year-end rankings

I love a list. I love to categorize and sort and arrange according to print, colour, and style. I am, in a very accurate word, fun. Right now, I'm excited to write new addresses in my new address book, and then alphabetize the hell out of all of it.

But I would rather walk into the sea than read your year-end album/TV/movie rankings.

I know that your heart is in the right place. I know that you are excited about new music or new TV shows and I know you have waited literal months to reference that snowman movie starring Michael Fassbender. (Which, for the record, is not to be confused with the animated movie The Snowman a heartbreaking delight.)

I know that some of you were so gung-ho to rank the year's best and brightest or worst and murkiest pop culture that you began in November as if 2017 would decide to tap out before the previously agreed upon 365 days. I know that you may have also already begun to shout at your computer in response to this piece because I am taking the one source of joy left in your life. And we all know that I cannot hear you. And that if I could, I would not care.

I don't care about your year-end album rankings. I don't care about them at all. Nothing you say or do will convince me to change what I listened to and liked and connected with, and nothing you say or do will convince me to give a band or TV show or movie I know I won't like a chance. I am the worst, and I am stubborn, and I am terrible. In short, I am a human person much like the other human people you know. And they've already decided what they like. No one is going to look at your list and say, "You know what? You're right. I wasted too much time listening to whoever-the-hell." Instead, they will just be annoyed that you didn't include whoever-the-hell at all. And then you will be enemies.

But look: I love you so much, so that's why I'm telling you this: nobody cares about your year-end lists. Everybody is tired. Right now, most of us just want to watch The Crown on repeat and talk about Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon and maybe whether Prince Philip has any redeeming qualities. At no point am I, or people like me, going to stray from comfort viewing during this, the last few days of the worst year in recent memory, to figure out whether our tastes in something was good or not because you have decided.

Who are you, even? The boss of us? No. You're just happy to be here and you really love what you're into and you would like us to be into it, too. But just take a seat and have a popcorn ball (I stole a bunch from my aunt's yesterday), and write all the lists you want, but write them for you. Who cares what the rest of us think? We're all the worst. Honestly, I'm not even being self-deprecating: I'm fine, but not great. But also, I don't really care. Because I'm drinking lemon drop tea and I'm wearing a very comfortable top and I'm going to buy chocolate to eat for dinner and I've actively decided not to read any year-end lists.

Unless you specifically rank everything I love as number one. Because if you've done that, I not only actively care about your year-end opinions, I care about them a lot.

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