I'm excited about watching "Gilmore Girls" tonight on the WB, and that, friends, is a bad sign. Last night J and I sat through "7th Heaven" and "Everwood." When I changed the channel at ten for "CSI Miami" (which I actually like) I realized there was a problem and turned the television off. Back when I lived by myself in the dingy, moldy studio apartment with all the animals I would flip through my cable stations never satisfied at what I'd find. I'd watch a little bit of "Newlyweds" or "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" never really feeling sad if I missed a show or attempted to find something more fulfilling (reading! all those books you've wanted to read for years!) to do.

But now that J and I have a cable deal which includes wireless internet, we've opted for the very most-basic-ever BASIC cable deal, which is very similar to not having cable at all. We get all the channels up to 25 and the Food Network way up at 77 crystal clear and nothing else. At first this meant I watched less TV, which I was enjoying. This is when I took up knitting and read voraciously.

But the networks have started up their new seasons and are getting me involved with their characters. Hot-looking teens with scandalous sex lives and unique one-parent families. Abstinence-loving Christians and brilliantly serious scientists who never smile. Washed-up actors in sitcoms I never had the patience to watch before.

Come on - three hours of TV? Three hours is what I get sucked into some nights! I realize that the national average is something like 76 hours a day but I am proud to say I've never loved lounging in front of the television. Sure, I've spent a good day checking out what's on when I'm wasn't feeling well, or just need a break, but this is different.

This is what I swore I'd never do - make time for the television...be home to watch a particular program. This is what I am eagerly contemplating right now.

The season is changing also. The days will soon be shorter, and honestly, the rain...It's been raining nonstop and we're now catching the end of hurricane Jeanne. Getting into pajamas at, oh, say seven, and cuddling up to watch several hours of programming, however completely numbing and unproductive - well, I suppose there couldn't be a more appropriate time. I'll just chalk it up to September and see if we can't get over this thing.

September 2004: the month it rained a lot and Cara ate a lot while lazily sitting in front of a television.

(Hopeful prediction: October rolled around and she stopped.)