Okay, I know. Nothing (really) since Thursday. I know. I suck.

See, this weekend snuck past me before I knew what was happening. There were errands, and cleaning (my room is about 62% de-cluttered), and napping, and I saw a movie (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – if you liked the book, you’ll really like the movie; and if you haven’t read the book, you’ll like the movie anyway, and for God’s sake go and read the book). And, yeah. Here we are.

I also got drawn into that time-honored, bad-weather weekend tradition: TV marathons. You know how every cable TV channel shows something – anything – on a loop for twelve hours, and you sit down and think “eh, what the hell, I’ll watch an episode” and suddenly six hours have passed? That’s usually my Saturday. I have the best intentions of productivity, but I’m a connoisseur of television and laziness. I might as well schedule a multi-hour bloc into my BlackBerry calendar with “Crap, I got sucked into (insert TV show here).” The weekend usually ends with me forlornly contemplating the remnants of my mental to-do list.

Here’s the weird thing: the TV marathons in question aren’t shows that I watch otherwise. I don’t watch new episodes of Law and Order: SVU, just the reruns that air – constantly – on cable. I almost forget that show exists in anything other than eight-hour increments.

And as I mentioned on Saturday, I managed to watch four – count ’em – episodes of the true crime reality show Forensic Files. While I wouldn’t put TruTV on my list of must-see television, I somehow watch in bulk, and I always feel like a warped human being for spending several hours invested in real-life murders and their aftermath. And this marathon viewing has consequences: about a year ago, after devoting a full weekend to Forensic Files and The Investigators, there was an unfamiliar man knocking at my apartment door. Working on the logical assumption that he was probably a serial killer, I glanced frantically around my apartment to gauge what could be used as a weapon in the event of an attack (I settled on my Guitar Hero guitar, which I figured I could wield as a club). Apparently, this man was an upstairs neighbor asking if our air conditioner was working (his wasn’t), so the guitar remained in its place. I laid off of the true crime TV for a while after that.

So anyway, that’s what I was doing this weekend in lieu of blogging. Go ahead and judge me. Or, join the shame party and tell me – which TV marathons suck you in during the weekend?