I know. You don't have to tell me. I was fifth grade spelling bee champion. I know that Konfess doesn't start with a K. I'm being kute and kreative. But back to my konfession.
I'm addicted. Yes, I said it. I have an addiction. My drug of choice? Reality TV. I can't get enough. I don't have needle marks, but I DO have calluses on my thumbs. And they hurt. I know. It's pathetic. And I am so ashamed. But there's nothing I can do to stop it. Well, I guess that's not true, is it? I could simply turn the TV off. I could read a book. I could take a walk. I could do lots of things. But I don't WANT to do other things. I'd rather watch the ghostly antics of Zac and the GAC, or watch Teresa beat down the other New Jersey Housewives. Or see what's in those storage units, and how much the Pawn Stars will pay for that 'ancient' ninja sword.
I just don't have the motivation to turn the TV off. I don't have the power to QUIT. I think I need a methadone program, but for reality TV. Or maybe an intervention. But I'm still able to function and my teeth still look nice, so maybe the intervention is a little premature.
Oh my! Look at the time! I've got to go see who gets voted off the island!