My life is so busy, I can barely watch all my shows.

For instance, tonight, Monday night, is 

(a) The Closer

(b) Trust Me

(c) an important rerun of Saving Grace from its first season, in preparation for new episodes in March

and, painfully,

(d) a concert in our jazz series.

So I put my DVR into service.  This scenario has happened more than once.  There was a concert a couple of weeks ago, before the above shows had started, but there was--in fact, these shows were also on tonight!--

(e) Big Bang Theory

(f) How I Met Your Mother

(g) Two and a Half Men (reader, I confess it.  I know it is unworthy.)

(The concerts were both lovely, thank you for asking, despite the small amount of discretionary whining I did about how I would rather stay home and watch my shows than go out to watch some jazz concert which might be lame.) However, I have hours--hours!--of DVR'd television.  

Of course, it's even more complicated than the labyrinthine dilemma outlined above.  The DVR is attached to the downstairs television.  (Don't even get me started on why.)  And the downstairs, while infinitely groovier than it once was (see: retrotastic blue sectional couch), is so very very cold.  Cold and icy.  Venture not into the basement without thine cozy blanket. And mittens, probably.

Yet, you say, there are hours and hours in the sabbatical day when one could knock off these recorded shows.  Hours and hours to watch television while bundled up in the basement.  A person could cross these shows off the to-do list, in an afternoon, probably--or a couple of afternoons, tops.  The problem with that is:  I am actually writing these days.  Oh yeah.  I am writing.  So all this recorded television is building up, I'm writing, there's the odd jazz concert, the basement's cold.  Who knows when the shows will get watched? Someone's got to do it, and someone's got to get her priorities in order.