Hellis Cures Insomnia With…Murder
Bear with me while I explain the title of this post. I suffer from bouts of insomnia which leave me with a lot of unstructured time on my hands. This is not a good thing, because I have yet to find a constructive way to fill that time. In other words, I don’t always make healthy choices.
So this opening is not doing much to alleviate doubts about my current mental state or potential guilt. Let me begin again:
My daughter has wanted to become a forensic anthropologist since she was old enough to figure out what one was (or sit through an entire episode of BONES). Last week she told me about an HBO program she saw advertised that she wanted to watch called AUTOPSY. Even though she is a high school freshman, my daughter knows she needs me to screen television shows in order to decide if they are appropriate for her to watch. Luckily for me, my cable provider puts their television shows online, so I propped up my laptop on my nightstand and set out to watch the latest episode of AUTOPSY. That’s when something amazing happened:
I fell asleep.
That’s right- not ten minutes into that show I was coma bound. I woke up about an hour later to find that the episode had played straight through to the end. Not wanting to miss out on a good thing, I “rewound” the episode (my fellow geriatrics know what I mean) and started it from the beginning. You know what happened? I fell asleep again. Even better, I woke up, restarted the program and then fell asleep once more that night, and the following night, and every night for the next three days.
Now, if you’ve
never dealt with ever been tortured by insomnia, starting a show over and over probably sounds like a tedious solution. But if you are like me, someone with whom absolutely no remedy whatsoever has worked, then you understand how something as simple as watching a television show is like God himself reaching down from Heaven and rewiring my brain. It wasn’t a perfect solution and sure, I was a little disturbed over the fact that of all things it was a show about autopsies that soothed my ailing mind. But I wasn’t going to let that get to me. Reaching a judgment about my relative state of mind would be the job of my Xfinity Cable Customer Service Representative.
You see, nothing good can just happen to me because God is dick. Yeah, I said it. God is nothing more than a bored frat kid who elbows his buddy and says, “Dude, watch this shit.” And with a belch of his Jager-stank breath, he commands there be no more AUTOPSY for Hellis. Oh, there’s an AUTOPSY alright, in that the program is available to watch, it’s just that I cannot access it. So I decide to give a different program a try, something edgy and dark and scientific should do the trick, right? Wrong. I watched Doctor Who straight through without so much as a yawn. With that I gave up on television and picked up my phone instead (another bad decision, but that is a topic for another post).
The next morning I called my cable provider and was connected to Chelsea, a sweet southern belle of a customer service representative who was oh so eager to help me. That is until she pulled up my account information and figured out what the problem was. Since a picture is worth a thousand words I’ve included a capture of the screen that accompanied her epic inhale.
What you are seeing is a summary of my viewing history; every day, for four straight days, the same episode of AUTOPSY played through to the end, over, and over, and over again. I’m going to give you a moment to let the reality of what I did sink in, or more importantly, how my obsessive revisiting of the same episode of AUTOPSY like Hannibal Lecter with his favorite trophy ball sack might look to a girl who, with my luck, is probably both a Christian and a psych major.
Chelsea delicately explained to me that because I played the same program through to the end over, and over, and over, that the system “locked” me out of the episode. All I had to do was erase my viewing history and I would be able to watch the episode again. Her voice trembling, she asked if I would like her to do that for me.
Now, I suppose I could have explained to her the completely innocuous reason why this whole misunderstanding came to be, but I just wouldn’t be me if I did. So I said this instead:
“That’s alright, Chelsea. I don’t have to watch it to know how it ends.”
Take that, God.
I never did end up watching that episode or any episode of AUTOPSY, mostly because I was sure my comment was going to get me an unscheduled visit from my local friendly division of the FBI. It all worked out in the end any way, since my daughter is beginning to think she may want to be a writer like me. In fact, she has a blog called LivLovesLit where she reviews books, so if any of you out there would like a young person’s take on your story, just visit her blog. But be warned; just like television, adults screen her emails and books before she gets them so be sure to keep it PG-13.