Venting My Frustrations

Dave is out all weekend.  I thought this would be a good time to catch up on that most useless of activities--watching The West Wing, Season 7.  Specifically, the episode where Josh and Donna get together.  I so completely don't care about anything else, but I care A LOT about that.  I have many years of pent-up frustrations invested in those two.  Mulder & Scully be damned.  

So I rented a disc, and tried to determine based on very limited information being offered from Netflix, if this was indeed the disc that will relieve the nuclear vent that is now suddenly my need to see fictional characters consummate.  I guessed wrong.  

So.  I've gone to iTunes.  They do not have Season 7.  I've gone to neighbors.  They have lost Season 7.  I've gone to the internet.  They do not have Season 7 (or trustworthy downloading sites don't.  And I'm not quite at the point where I will sacrifice the integrity of my computer for one single episode of a show that has been off the air for years.  That I no longer care about.  Except clearly I do.)

I should take this as a sign.  I am not meant to see Josh and Donna get together this weekend.  There will be other times (but, as I was explaining to Dave, no other times when I'll have complete autonomy over the remote and its rewind function).  Except that it's not a sign, because frankly it feels no different from all those times in all those episodes where Donna would say things like "If you were in an accident I wouldn't stop for red lights" or Leo called Josh on his inability to deal with Donna being with another guy, or any number of millions of incidents (the juiciest of which I was planning on watching as foreplay before watching The Episode) where we got sooo close and then various shit like iTunes being a bastard got in the way.  Or neighbors losing the season?  What's up with that?

I just want to watch Josh and Donna have sex!  Is that so much to ask?

God.