Ok, so, I know I've been kinda MIA lately. And then I get back on here and I'm all like "I've been so busy and I miss blogging and writing and as soon as things settle down and get back to normal I'll be back" and yadda yadda yadda.
Well, I suppose it is finally time to come clean. I've been exhausted. And tired. And sick. And...
NOT! Sorry, couldn't resist. I know everyone is just waiting for that announcement, but you'll just have to keep waiting.
Truth is... I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but, about three months ago, we took the plunge into somewhat recent television-hood and subscribed to streaming Netflix. And I've been like a little kid in a candy shop ever since.
I've watched River Monsters. All of them. And Numb3rs. Most of them. And some 24, and some Mythbusters, and some great documentaries (The Kennedy's, anyone?)
But, what takes up most of my viewing pleasure? McDreamy. And McSteamy.
Yes, that's right. For the past 3 months, I've averaged about 1.5 episodes every 2 days. Now I must insert a disclaimer that the hubs works evenings, so I'm not sacrificing that time. And I watch after Ansley is in bed. And I make sure the house and things are cleaned up.
But then, I spend about 47 minutes in Seattle, roaming the halls of Seattle Grace hospital.
I've always been a sucker for medical dramas, so this isn't anything new. And, I used to watch the episodes as they aired, but even though the switch to digital was supposed to be so much better, I get fewer channels now than I did before, and the channels I do get don't have sound. So, yeah, Netflix was to us what indoor plumbing was to my grandparents.
At least, I think they grew up without it. I know my grandmother certainly appreciates it now.
Maybe it's more like a porta-potty. Not quite as nice as the real thing, but it beats using a tree.