I just finished the final episode of Hell on Wheels.
We used to watch it, then we stopped because we had livestock for entertainment.
I began at the beginning, 70 hours ago, and am now experiencing grief, disbelief, and more than a little relief.
I haven’t gotten shit done since hour one.
I’ve actually upped my intake recently, knowing that realistically, nothing else was going to happen until I’d seen it all.
Until that fucking Golden Spike was driven home.
I completely succumbed to the lure of hot man in the Wild West.
And now, 2.92 days later, I can move on with my life.