TV has become something like a responsibility in my life.  There are shows that I watch, and I watch every episode of them.  I can’t miss an episode.  That would be cheating on a show!  This leaves me with no free time at night.  We have DVR so we can watch the shows whenever we want and we can skip the commercials, but that really makes it more mandatory to watch every episode.  Plus now that I’m married there’s a whole new group of shows that have been added to my regular schedule.  Some of them are not shows that I don’t feel bad missing, but there are some that I have to watch now (CSI:NY, Numb3rs, and Extreme Makeover Home Edition come to mind... and to a lesser extent CSI:Miami), so I still don’t get much time in the evenings.  I guess in a few weeks everything will be in reruns and I won’t be watching anything.  But the sad part is that Stephanie and I have planned that this is when we are going to start Paper Mario 2.  I also have plans to watch Lost this summer since so many people say it rocks so hard and I didn’t want to start halfway through the season.  In the same paragraph that I complain about watching so much TV, I talk about planning to add a new show to my required viewing list.  Meanwhile I’m still on page 800/900 of Quicksilver, and I was on page 700 about two months ago.  On the plus side I finally finished my second pass through Metroid Prime: Echoes (100% on hard mode so that I can open up everything).

Speaking of TV, Steph and I have started watching Grey’s Anatomy (Sunday nights on ABC).  I’ve never really enjoyed hospital shows, and this one isn’t really changing my opinion.  It’s not so much that I don’t like seeing blood.  It’s true that I don’t like seeing my own blood, but people being cut open on television doesn’t give me nightmares or anything.  I just like to pretend that doctors are omniscient beings without souls or personal lives.  Robots, if you will.  They certainly do not have sex lives or go to parties or drink alcohol before surgery or have sex with each other in the hospital.  Any hint that these robots are actually humans is an admission that they can make a mistake.  And I like to pretend that doctors don’t make mistakes or have opinions.  This will help me whenever I’m dying.  Presuming I don’t die suddenly in a plane crash or exploding gas truck or something.  Hopefully I get in another decade or five before that happens.

Oh it’s Friday The Thirteenth today.  Does anyone really care?