dearest katie decided to clue me in on her latest obsession when i ventured to her townhouse so i could work from the comforts of her couch, with her puppy and her force feeding (well, that’s a lie. i willingly ate it) me cake. as i let little samson chew on my finger, katie walked over and said, “you will thank me in 43 minutes.” alas, she pressed play on her roku and started me on season one of Dexter. you know, that show about a serial killer killing murders.
lady durski got me hooked. she flat out said, “you’re going to love it. it’s dark, mysterious and deep. it’s a you show.” um, thanks? i think? anyway, i ventured back to my humble abode and she texted me asking if i was adding it to my instant netflix. i confirmed her suspicion and i’ve been watching ever since. even watching at my sister’s house while everyone was eating.
and so now i dream about serial killers. i dream that they are forcing me to eat human flesh. i dream about blood. i wake up completely and utterly disgusted. and then i start watching it on my tv because i’m so freaking addicted to a serial killer that kills serial killers that it’s worth the dreams. i’ve moved all other things down on my netflix so i can get all the seasons delivered. it used to take me a week (or 2.5) to watch a movie if i had to pay attention because of work. now that it’s slower (jinx), i can watch. even the boss applauds my decision to watch television instead of sports.