The worst part of my husband being gone for three weeks is that I don't get to watch Battlestar Galactica when he's not around. Now before you jump on my case, let me suggest that I get to talk to him three (sometimes 4) times a day while he's out of town. As far as Galactica goes, I'm cold turkey. This is no small sacrifice, my friends.
The truth is out. I have become what Jesse referred to as, "one of those." I'm utterly and completely hooked on a sci-fi show. But if you haven't watched it, I would be pre-tty careful about getting all judgey with me about my viewing habits. I dare you to watch an episode (or 20) and not think it's awfully compelling television. Sure it might have taken five different people to convince me to give it try. I certainly had reservations. "Kind of dorky," may have even floated around my mind when people mentioned it to me. But darn it if that show didn't grab me from the pilot! And now I can't get enough. I can admit when I'm wrong, and I was wrong about Battlestar Galactica. I've stepped over to the dork side and I'm proud of it.
What I'm saying is this; if I didn't have a husband who was incredibly responsible my life would likely look something like this: