Goodbye Thursday nights

I thought surviving the writers’ strike would feel like ending a fast: I’d emerge from my anemic state, hungry, tired and desperate to return to my fatty Must See TV diet. Instead, I discovered that the veggie diet of PBS, books, and movies was not only palatable but preferable. While I supported the writers’ demands (though the word “demands” overstates the paltry slice of pie the writers were asking for), I braced myself for the disappearance of my favorite shows. I bore it so well though, that now I resent TV.

My evenings have been chock full of indie films and meaty novels, causing dramatic spikes in my Netflix and library usage rates, and I’m hard pressed to fit TV back in. But I will. I know I could live without television, but I’d prefer not to. In truth, there are only a few shows that I consider daily vitamins: Scrubs, The Office, 30 Rock, Law & Order SVU, and House, but frankly, I’ve done OK without them. But come this Thursday, I know I won’t be able to resist gorging on high caloric TV . It’s hard to stick to a diet.


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