I have a problem.
It's a problem that has affected my life for the past two weeks, causing me to lose sleep and even appetite, taking over the dreams I have when I do sleep, dominating my conversations, my relationships, my plans to venture into the outside world.
It's a problem a lot of us have had since the invention of Netflix, but for me, it has never been this bad. No show has dominated my life the same way Grey's Anatomy has, ever since I decided, on a whim, to start rewatching it two weeks ago.
I was home sick with a sinus infection and nothing to do, so I was going to finally watch The Crown. For some reason, Netflix wouldn't play The Crown, which is weird because The Crown is a Netflix show. But when The Crown wouldn't play, I had to make another choice, and I decided on Grey's Anatomy.
Whether I was subconsciously anticipating the 300th episode or just simply needing TV comfort food, that choice suddenly became the best and worst choice I ever made. Grey's Anatomy was exactly what I wanted to watch at that moment, and then at every moment after that. I couldn't stop. I needed Ellen Pompeo's soothing voice in my head, explaining what surgeons do, nearly 24/7. Plus, Netflix automatically plays the next episode so fast you barely have time to make it stop, so like, it's not my fault.
I watched the entire first season (nine episodes) that day, plus a few more. Season two, which is 27 episodes, took me approximately two days to finish, despite the fact that I went to work the next day.
That Saturday—Halloween weekend—I managed to go to two whole parties, though I had to tear myself away right after Izzie (Katherine Heigl) cut the LVAD wire, and I regretted it the entire night. My flamingo costume barely even counted as a flamingo costume because instead of putting it together, I was watching Grey's Anatomy.
I washed dishes and watched Grey's Anatomy. I took showers and watched Grey's Anatomy. I cooked and watched Grey's Anatomy. I cleaned my room, got ready for work, online shopped, did yoga (OK, I stretched), all while watching Grey's Anatomy. I paused it to watch Project Runway, only because my mom and I call each other weekly to talk about Project Runway and I didn't want her to be sad. But then I immediately went back to watching Grey's Anatomy.
It's been two weeks, and I'm now in the middle of season six. That's 113 episodes in 14 days, or an average of eight episodes a day, as if this show is now my full-time job. (Editor's note: It's not!) I'm not sure if this is bragging or begging for help, but it's probably a little of both.
My Grey's Anatomy adventure has been part rewatch, part first time watch, because originally I gave up watching it somewhere in the middle of season four. Izzie did not come out of that Denny (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) situation well, and her affair with the married George (T.R. Knight) annoyed me too much to stick with it. This time around, I was still annoyed, but I kept going, and going, and going. Now George is dead, Izzie is MIA, Cristina (Sandra Oh) and Owen (Kevin McKidd) are not having sex, Derek (Patrick Dempsey) and Meredith are post-it note married and the hospital's called Seattle Grace Mercy West.
Everything has changed (on the show) in the past two weeks of watching it and I'm deep into those years where a lot of people started to give up, but there's something so strangely comforting about the world these doctors operate in, so filled with death and uncertainty but also hopeful. No matter how many characters leave or die, this show goes on. Everything can fall apart a thousand times, and there's still another season or seven to go. You can find love again after you get left at the altar. You can come back to life after drowning. Your friends can leave, but new, sometimes even hotter friends can replace them. And sometimes life gives you cliffhangers, but if you just keep going, most things turn out OK a few episodes later.
So that's the life I'm living right now, sleep-deprived and endlessly roaming the halls of whatever the hell the hospital's called now while waiting for Meredith's soothing voiceovers to tell me what I learned today. Was it that I should say sorry more often? Or perhaps it was something about pain? I don't know. But I do know that despite the fact that I'm drowning in my inability to do anything other than watch Grey's Anatomy, I'm going to keep watching Grey's Anatomy until there's no more Grey's Anatomy to watch. Or at least until someone comes to rescue me from myself, which no one should do, unless they want to hang out with me or something, but even then…
Anyway, congratulations Grey's Anatomy on 300 episodes, but also how dare you because I'm not going to get anything done for WEEKS.
Grey's Anatomy airs Thursdays at 8 p.m. on ABC.