So This Is Why I Don't Do Drugs


This show. This god darn show. It has taken over my life and Netflix is to blame. 

I'm sure you've all heard about the hoopla surrounding the release of House of Cards' newest season. If you haven't heard of any of this until now, don't be ashamed. I hadn't even heard of the show until the fuss started festering within the past couple weeks, either. And I had no intention of subjecting myself to the craziness until I somehow managed to strain a ligament in my knee while attempting to slide my ass into a booth at the bar Saturday night, thus causing me to not be able to walk, thus causing me to not be able do anything but sit on the couch for two days straight. 

What the fuck? I know. Anyway...

This is the second season to have come out of the Netflix Original Series and it has been gaining ground as one of the greatest shows around as well as one that has caused quite the number of TV binges.

I am its latest culprit. Here's my story:

I finished both of the seasons in the past two days. Two seasons. In two mother fudging days. Let me break down the math, Kindergarten style. I started the first episode, er "chapter" for any of you fellow HoC lovers, around 11am this past Sunday after said bar debacle.

House of Cards season one: started at 11:12am on Sunday


House of Cards season one: finished at 11:55pm on Sunday


But it didn't stop there. I had yesterday off from work and what better way is there to spend your day than by feeding your brain with more Netflix? The answer: there is no better way. At least in my eyes, because this girl started up again by pressing play on the second season a little after noon yesterday. I then finished the second season around midnight last night...

That's a little over 12 hours on Sunday and a little under 12 hours yesterday, giving us a grand total of 24 hours. P.S. I'm seriously SO smart at math if you hadn't noticed. #sarcasm There are 26 episodes in both seasons, all at about 50 minutes long. The math on this one is a little trickier but the general gist goes a little like this…

26 episodes X 50 minutes each, in 24 hours time = Erin needs help.


And this was the point in time when I took the first step in knowing you're an addict; I  admitted to having a problem. A very severe problem. It's as if I opened up a jar of rubber cement and pasted a line directly from my eyeballs to my MacBook. Because Kevin Spacey's face was about the only thing they saw for hours and hours (and hours) on end these past two days. And I couldn't force myself to do anything but keep them there for the entirety of it all.

I didn't drink anything because I didn't want to have to press pause and get up to pee.


And the one time I did have to finally go, I brought my laptop with me. Cute, Erin, real cute.

I ordered Chinese delivery on Seamless even though I had a meal leftover in the fridge that was perfectly ready to be heated up for two minutes. But that's two minutes that could be spent watching Frank Underwood take over the damn country. Obviously the logical option was to have a little Asian man deliver me chicken and broccoli with garlic sauce in a plastic bag, with plate and fork all ready to go. I even had the tip squared away online so I didn't have to spend time searching for my wallet in the disaster that is my disorganized Longchamp. Minimal eye-look-awayage as possible, people.

I avoided texts from people asking me to make plans.

I avoided a call from my father who was trying to explain to me that I should probably start thinking about doing blog business taxes. Side eye to that nonsense, because between you and me, I probably would have avoided that call regardless had I been enthralled in the Net of flix. Let's get serious now...


P.S. hi dad, love you!

I didn't even turn on my TV for a single second since starting the first episode. Not for Real Housewives, not for Vanderpump secrets, not for the Olympics closing ceremony, not even for (wait for it) the most shocking episode of The Bachelor… like, ever.

I was a straight up crack head force-feeding the episodes to myself. Nothing could stop me.

And that was the point in time when I realized that I have an addictive personality. 


I've always been one to push this label aside and say "no, absolutely not me" but I think I've finally come to terms with the fact that it's true. At least when it comes to television. Thus why I've continuously avoided drugs my entire life. Because if I can't control myself from binging on a freaking TV show, imagine the damage I'd cause with things that are actually bad for me.

But I mean, come on now, have you SEEN House of Cards?! It's absolutely phenomenal. The characters, the plot twists, the suspense, the backstabbing, the deaths, the betrayal, the gorgeous actors. Seriously, you simply just cannot put it down press stop. Because there isn't anything about it that you can hate.

Wait, yes there is. All of the Capitol Hill legislative mumble jumble that flies straight over my head. Anything to do with checks and balances and bill rulings makes my head spin faster than Kim Richards' during one of her whackadoo spaz attacks. And that makes me sound completely moronic but it's true. I could have easily gone for a few more love triangles and a little less of the one that consists of the three branches of our government.

But it's okay since the storyline makes up for all of that nonsense and then some.

I dare you to watch it and not come back saying the same thing. I dare you to get to the end and not find yourself waking up in a severe depression once you realize you'll have to wait an entire eternity before getting to watch the next season. Damn you, Netflix, for causing my productivity to take a bigger hit than Lil Wayne. Damn you, House of Cards, for being one of the best shows I've ever had the pleasure of watching and only releasing yourself once a year.

And damn you, Breaking Bad, for forcing me to just use "one of the best" in that last sentence. Because you, my dear meth-making phenomenon, still hold the #1 spot for TV badassery.


No wonder I dressed up as hard drugs for Halloween. Jesse Pinkman forever and for always. But seriously, go watch House of Cards. And then go ahead and comment letting me know I'm not the only foolbag that binges on television shows as badly as this. Please for the sake of my sanity.