You Have the Right to Remain Lazy

Well, April is pretty much over, folks, and I still don’t have the Benny piece finished. I’ve been working on it, but with the cold this week and my brand-new job hunt, it hasn’t fared too well, priority-wise. I will have to finish it Sunday, or at least close to, as May is the official start of my comp study. It’s just a good thing that I have already read six of those books, and I can short-shrift the first couple… But if I take any longer on Benny, my editor will send out a search party (meaning goons with instructions to go for the knees).

But I won’t say that the cold and the one-day-old job hunt have been the only culprits. A recent resurgence in my once-raging Law and Order addiction hasn’t helped, as John and I have spent the better part of the last three days rooted to the sofa just following the stories of the police who investigate the crimes and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders…

You are probably thinking that M*A*S*H and The Milton Berle Show seem more my speed than crime shows, when considering my personality and tastes, but keep in mind my temporary affair with criminology way back when, and you can see the allure.

But, honestly, how am I expected to resist this show?! I swear that I am not generally a TV fan (as anyone who has ever discussed movies and radio serials from the thirties with me can corroborate), and we haven’t had cable for over two years, but if all television was like this stuff, I’d turn in my badge and gun as a cinemasnob, guaranteed. Intelligent scripts, good acting, gripping plots…

Truly, for me, the real L&O (you can keep the jazzy spin-offs, thanks) is the TV equivalent to crack or charge cards, and with our one season on DVD, and over 18 six-hour bootlegged VHS tapes from the long-forgotten era when A&E was actually watchable (before it became a pseudo-respectable, upper-class version of Fox), I may never be free.

My only hope is that someone eventually hires me, and gets me off the sofa.

Other than that, there is not much to report, but I will impart some wisdom for the season. If you fall in love, make sure it is with someone who doesn’t mind doing your taxes. Hearts and roses are nice and all, but fiscal responsibility and resourcefulness last forever. I can do my own taxes. Sometimes I even like to do them. However, John is never so loveable as when he is adding and deducting, and letting me off my federally-mandated hook so I can scurry to finish a project (and immerse myself deeply in Detectives Logan and Greevey’s latest search warrant debacle).

Do I have the luck, or what?