Save Me From Myself

I've never been comfortable with half-assing things, even things that deserved half-ass treatment. I have always been guilty of doing things, well, full-ass. I have purposely avoided binge-watching TV shows, knowing that I just don't have that kind of time in my life. I have reserved Downton Abbey, Mad Men, Breaking Bad and the rest, for a future flight to the moon or if I should ever be unlucky enough to contract mono. (Okay, I did actually watch Tig Notaro's brilliant One Mississippi on Amazon but there has only been one, six episode season so far. The new season starts on Thursday.)

Last week, I knew I would be staying inside a lot due to the heat. I decided to take Game of Thrones for a quick spin. I didn't count on it holding my attention for more than half an episode. In my longstanding tradition of being really, really bad at moderation, I have just completed the fourth season. Yes, that's forty hours of television. I have been watching it like it's my job, my forty hour-a-week job.

I only have thirty hours to go to get caught up to with the rest of everyone else on the planet. I hope nobody in this house is planning on needing food or laundry for awhile.