And Then There’s The Television Series That Goes Down In Flames

I have many guilty pleasures. Many. Television is one of them.

Before you criticize my viewing habits, please know that I read. Real books. And not of the Harlequin romance variety. I enjoy the opera and the theater, too. I dabble in writing. I swim. I practice yoga. So you could say I’m comfortably well-rounded.

On the telly, I watch a little bit of everything. Drama, comedy, reality. The History Channel. The Weather Channel (but who doesn’t?).

And yes, I watch (don’t laugh) Big Love.

It’s the final season of the series. So the writers are pulling out all the stops. With every single unimaginable scenario imaginable.

I hate that.

But, I watch. Reluctantly. Because I’m hooked on the characters and I want to see the directions they take. But it gets to the point that I don’t care anymore. And I’m almost glad that I’m going to get an hour of my life back each week.

Yep.

I think the writers do it on purpose so you don’t miss the show too much when it’s finally gone.