Grey's Anatomy is my current guilty pleasure. Last week, following the Super Bowl, they aired a super duper, ratings stunt, exciting episode. Despite the hype, I still enjoyed it. The protaganist, Meredith, starts out the episode refusing to get out of bed. Her best friend comes to drag her out. As Meredith explains her predicament, she moans, "I need something to happen. I need a sign, some hope, something to spur me on. And in the absence of that, I need to stay in bed and feel like I might die today."
Well, I couldn't stay in bed physically, but I was definitely there mentally. I'm taking a moment, pausing, if you will, to collect my thoughts before I press on. It hasn't been the best week of my life, certainly. Or really, the best month. But that's okay. I'm getting out of bed and pressing forward. You have my apologies for the lapse in blogging.
And if you're looking for a guilty pleasure, Grey's is on Sunday nights.
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