I didn’t even know binge-watching was a term. I thought I was just blazing the trail by being super productive and watching entire seasons of a popular show on Netflix in a few sittings. I kept thinking about those poor saps who watched one episode a week with commercials, then left with a cliffhanger.

My first victim was Battlestar Galactica. My good friend Ferris told me for two years how great this show was but I didn’t believe him. Out of sheer boredom I gave it a shot and boy was I hooked. I was staying up until 3am during the week, watching five episodes a night, with red wine of course. But the next night I always had to rewatch the last episode because I’d fallen asleep. I heard cylons flying above my apartment at night. I downloaded the BSG soundtrack for my gym playlist. I used the word frakking. I wanted to be buff like the rest of the fleet. I wanted to wear dark khakis, be Starbuck’s bff and save the universe together.

A few months later, I had ACL surgery. I had two weeks of shut in on my couch. Mad Men was in my future. Suddenly I had cravings for scotch and smoking, even though I didn’t like either. I was strangely more confident about my curvy figure and wanted to motorboat Joan, even though I’m not gay. In the end I just bought myself red lipstick.

Last year I was out for a month recovering from foot surgery. A MONTH. You have no idea what it does to the psyche. Luckily I discovered The Walking Dead. I fell in love with Rick, who didn’t? I wished I had a southern twangy accent and torn jeans. I swear I heard walkers walking around and breathing heavily in my apartment at night. They’d replaced the cylons. I wondered how I’d escape my from apartment if walkers broke in. I gave this serious thought.

Then I switched to Breaking Bad. Although I didn’t want to try meth, I did want to try Jesse Pinkman in a bad way. I wanted to take a road trip to New Mexico in a beater El Camino, eat some blue corn tortillas and buy some turquoise jewelry, with Jesse of course.

Currently I’m on another medical leave for a month from my third foot surgery. I had been putting off the show that everyone said I would resonate the most with – SOPRANOS. I felt like that was my life growing up – strip clubs, mafia, murder, New Jersey? I’d been there, if you know what I mean. Then I caved and watched it – WOW – I finished the series in a week and a half, averaging about 10 episodes a day. It was like watching old home movies, at times a little too close to home and made me miss my father. I craved baked ziti and red wine, like all day long. I finished the series last week and am currently suffering from post-Sopranos depression. I secretly mourned James Gandolfini. I can’t find anyone else who can possibly compare to my friends Tony and Carmella.

Did I happen to mention I don’t have cable? So I had to get creative with my show watching. All in all? Some damn good TV watching, a vivid imagination and a few scars…