We're gonna be honest here, we've never loved this show as much as we do right now.
Yeah, maybe we were a little tired of them walking around and killing things and/or each other, but it's not simply the fact that they are now clean and living in enviably nice houses that pleases us. This is a group of people that has grown so used to not being clean and living in houses and being safe that they actually can't do it.
They can't talk about dentistry and baking while they drink wine at dinner parties. They can't walk around without guns, and it doesn't really matter if Alexandria is actually a safe place or not. To Rick, Sasha, Michonne, and Carol, it can't be.
Rick could get there, though he did momentarily contemplate shooting Jessie's husband Pete, just because he could (and because Rick had kissed Jessie earlier, and clearly wanted Pete out of the way). Michonne put her katana up on the wall above the fireplace, both as art and for easy access. Carol's pretending to be a cookie-baking housewife extraordinaire, but when Jessie's son caught her sneaking guns and chocolate from the inventory, she threatened to tie him up far away in the woods to be eaten by monsters if he told his mother he saw her there.
Sasha, meanwhile, is suffering from panic attacks – not when she's fighting off walkers, but when she gets overwhelmed by the sheer ridiculousness of these lost suburbanites worrying that they'll cook her something she hates while there's an apocalypse happening outside.
The end of the episode felt particularly telling, with Rick sharing a Frozen hand-on-the-door moment with a walker on the other side of the fence, soundtracked by The Bee Gees' "Spicks and Specks" – Where is the sun that shone on my head / the sun in my life / it is dead / it is dead.
At least Daryl seems to be sort of enjoying himself, especially now that he's got a purpose. Aaron doesn't want Eric to endanger himself on recruitment runs anymore, so he wants Daryl to join him.
"You know the difference between a good person and a bad person," he says after gifting Daryl the motorcycle he's been collecting parts for. Daryl's about as pleased as Daryl can be, and he doesn't even want one of Carol's stolen guns later. We would not say no to a Walking Dead that features Daryl as the most well-adjusted of all.
So other than a couple of jerks like Aiden, Alexandria seems to be a pretty nice place. Supposing for now that it is, and that this is the paradise they've all theoretically been searching for this whole time, why isn't this good enough for anyone besides maybe Daryl (and the happy drunk Abraham)? Will anything ever be good enough? Is there any point to anything at all on this show? Or in life?
Now if you'll excuse us, we'll be drowning our existential sorrows in some serious spaghetti.