I can’t help but watch these shows. God help me if there’s a marathon because I don’t get a damn thing done. It’s like watching a wreck in slow motion and knowing you should alert the authorities but not being able to peel your eyes away from the impending doom. I don’t admit this to everyone because there are some people who think I’m intelligent and I’d like them to continue thinking that even if it’s often not true, but you bring this up On The Down Low at a cocktail party and it’s like moths to the light. There’s a whole lot of women watching crap on t.v. and all it takes is one of us to spill our guts and it becomes True Confession Time.
I recently watched an episode of Hoarders that kept me awake all night. Rabbits. DOZENS of rabbits in the house hopping everywhere. Normally I’m not scared of rabbits but this was such a freaky obsession that I couldn’t close my eyes for fear of them hopping into bed with me, and I couldn’t very well tell my husband what was keeping me awake. He’s not all that aware of how much I watch this kind of stuff because I keep my finger firmly on the “last channel” button should I hear footsteps. Nope, this is one of those secret addictions, much like the hidden malted milk balls I keep stashed in the cabinet for when I’m stressed.
I could name ten things I do that even weird me out time after time but I don’t drink every afternoon with a bunch of botoxed women I can’t stand, never felt the need to pop out a baby every year, and prefer my garbage and wildlife on the outside of my house. Self esteem comes in many different forms. Mine comes by way of Bravo and TLC. Thank you very much.
