My husband thinks I should start a support group for all of us who have over 600 documentaries on our Netflix queue

Well.

I feel certain this must be close to normal. Any time a new subject comes up that one wants to know more about, which is at least daily, or if one hears anew about a movie from, say, 70 or 80 years ago that is of historical interest for any reason (or has Conrad Veidt in it), one must add it to the Netflix queue. The queue naturally becomes lengthy if one is interested at all in the world, or in hearing a story told well, or in studying the ways of storytelling.

Then one becomes absorbed in the two or three books one is reading at the time and can't be bothered to watch a movie. And so the queue patiently waits, and grows fat and pleasantly familiar.

Evan gets a good laugh at the length of our queue. I prefer to think he chuckles fondly, musing, "That's my adorable wife, with her quirks I love so much." However, all I actually hear is his laughter. Even the support group idea was accompanied by a roar. (I dearly love his laugh, by the way, subject for another blog entry.)

Could this laugh mean Evan believes I will not find a sufficient number of members for my support group? Does he think others haven't suffered the emotional trauma I have at being told I had reached my limit and could not add a movie I wanted? (With trembling hands, and sniffling back almost-tears, I scrolled through the list to find a few movies to delete, vowing solemnly I would remember them and add them back later.)

I submit that there are many out there who work the queue the way I do, who cherish the idea that the knowledge contained in those 1,200 hours of viewing is poised to be theirs (mine), at the click of a mouse. Now, if I discover this to be true I hope this new fact of my strength in numbers will somehow also be a source of jollity for my dear spouse.