Kill Your Television

After many years of having no television access in my house, I succumbed to getting satellite. It was totally the fault of the Red Sox, who had finally delivered on a World Series – I was tired of sponging off other people who had cable to watch the games. Satellite seemed like a better deal than cable, what with my bundling options, so now the dish sits on the front of my house, marring her unusual Victorian lines.

Until now, I have treated the satellite dish as a transmitter for baseball games and nothing else. With the season winding down and a night to myself I decided to explore the world of television beyond baseball. What a mistake. Not only did I get sucked into watching an awful movie about gang rape on Lifetime, I got sucked into it until 1:15 a.m. There I was, helpless on the sofa, being told about the side affects of every kind of prescription drug on the market (“. . . and in some cases even death.” Ooh, sign me up!) wishing desperately that someone would make it stop but being too damn lazy (and sort of interested in a pathetic way) to do so myself.

The movie ended. I’m late for work. But not from oversleeping – no, I had to write in my blog.