Until the DVDs arrived, I’d never seen an episode of Desperate Housewives.

Husband says he thought it was fiction. Husband is oblivious. Desperate Housewives is a documentary. It’s hilarious, yet I often find myself watching it the same way I watch someone being tortured with powertools on 24 or Alias: wimpering and peering through my fingers. Alcohol also helps.

I’m deeply traumatized yet I can’t stop watching.