I vowed this week I would leave the TV off.
That's because I was going absolutely crazy watching our White House Crackpot try to lay the Russia probe in Hillary's lap.
Every time I saw Dump appear on the screen I would shudder. I kept wanting something terribly violent to happen to him.
Similarly, every time Sarah Huckabee Sanders appeared on the screen, I wanted either to:
1) strangle her, or
2) do something worse.
These impulses scared me.
I wrote a post last week in my own blog, quoting NYTimes columnist David Brooks, who was advocating that we should try to love the fanatics that we want so much to hate.
For the record, I plan to reread that post as soon as I finish exploding here.
Back to the TV...I was doing pretty well keeping it off all weekend.
It was off until about 8:30 this morning when news of the Manafort arrest and indictment hit the NPR airwaves. It was then that my husband (who is trying to help me with my TV news addiction) walked into my study where I had been meditating (earlier) and told me what was happening.
I felt like an alcoholic who had just been served a sparkling glass of chilled white wine.
In two seconds, I was back at it, glued to MSNBC (which BTW had much better coverage than CNN).
I was marveling as lawyers, including MSNBC's own Ari Melber, laid out the charges against Manafort, Dump's former campaign manager. He laundered $18 million, the indictment alleges. No wonder he didn't need a salary for the dump campaign.
But now, now I've shut the TV off again.
Or...until something else happens.