There may be a war breaking out around here soon. I’m not talking about a world war, just a war at my house.
It doesn’t center around who’s done or didn’t do the dishes or who wouldn’t just get out of the car to ask for directions or even who took the last piece of my Smoked Mozzarella Pizza Bread.
No, this is a serious one. And it’s sort of my fault. But maaayyybe, by design.
I’d been threatening to do it for about a year thanks to the dirth of boringness that appeared before my eyeballs. And finally it happened.
A few months ago we cancelled our Direct TV. Okay, they disconnected it.
See, ‘someone’ rented a movie and since I have all of the bills on autopay and my husband gets the email notifications because we don’t get paper statements (because we’re oh-so ‘green’ like that), and I was out of town and wasn’t missing the TV so didn’t really pay heed to his requests to get the dang bill paid, a running tally of about $8 bucks caused our traditional viewing habits to bite the dust.
No more Today Show with their pseudo journalism and fakey friendships to wake up to. No more late night bantering back at the TV with Dave. And no more Food Network or Real Housewives. Since that was about the extent of my television viewing habits, especially given the lameness that is produced and titled “Must Watch Summer TV”, we decided we’d rather not.