Desperate Housewives is Back

The new season of Desperate Housewives began last night.

It was the end of a very good day. Earlier, I had reread an essay to which I wanted to return for a long time.

I suffer from Sunday night anxiety, a residual effect from a previous life. Desperate Housewives is the perfect tonic. I go to the local pub, and watch it with acquaintances, people I do not know well, but who seem to like me. After the show, we discuss it a little, try to predict what will happen next week.

Then we trundle off to our trundle beds.