Hysteria on Wysteria

I’ve been up since 3:13am this morning. It started with a rustling from a deep slumber to feed the baby. She was a breeze and hardly a bother—ate and went back to sleep. Anxiety was the cause of my restlessness.

Like many of us, this economy feels like an anchor around my neck. I’m determined to not let it get the best of me, but I finally have to admit I’m worried. I keep telling myself it will pass but every place you turn, it hits you over the head.

Case in point: I snuck out of bed and figured a little DVR would soothe my mind and beckon me back to bed. The show du jour was Desperate Housewives — harmless fun, right? WRONG. Within minutes I had Lynette’s financial burdens on my shoulders too.

Then Susan couldn’t afford to send MJ to private school and feared his education would suffer in increasing class sizes due to budget cuts. Come on people. Give me a break. A break from reality. That’s why I tune into television. If I want to think about those issues, I just have to open my eyes to another day in my Brooklyn home. I go to Wisteria Lane to get away from the hysteria of regular life.

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