Television is a one-eyed monster that will inevitably suck your brain out through your eyeballs. This has been my stance on the subject for quite a while now. I have a tendency to find most everything on television unworthy of my attention. We just don't watch much of it at my house, and that's just peachy with me.
Well, now I have apparently developed an unhealthy relationship with the crime channel, or whatever the heck it is. All those shows about deranged killers and psychopaths. You know the one.
It all started with severe cramps. I was dying on Monday and deemed it a sick day. I rolled out of bed around 10:30, got the heating pad, blanket, GINORMOUS glass of ice water, ibuprofen, one emergency loritab, my current book endeavor and headed for the futon. This would be my place of residence for the duration.
Reading was giving me a headache. So, I flipped on the TV. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Spongebob? No. Animal Planet. There you go. I watched some blue planet thing until a whale beached itself. I cried for the next 30 minutes and swore off Animal Planet.
I finally ended up watching some documentary type thing on this creepy Green River killer dude. Creepy. Unsettling. I want to change the channel, but I can't. It's riveting. Did he get caught? Is he EVER getting out? Who survived and how?
Show after show it's the same stuff. This guy murdered these people because of this. This group of morons got together and killed the whole neighborhood. There are too many evil people out there to comprehend, and you're basically a sitting duck.
Great! So, maybe via this strange interest I have developed, I'll avoid any demon spawn that may be in the vicinity. I don't know. What I do know is that my husband leaves the closet door cracked just a tad every morning, and when I step out of the shower it's the first thing I see.
I now have my Louisville Slugger hidden by the shower curtain.