While many of my friends are pledging to limit their screen time in 2023, I plan on upping mine, popcorn in hand, with more episodes of Real Housewives and Below Deck. Although I’m not a fan of New Year’s resolutions by and large, this year, I plan to carve out more time to feed my head more brain candy, aka absolutely mindless reality shows that are probably rotting my brain from the inside out, but taste so damn good for an hour or two. It’s all in an effort to turn my mind completely and utterly off by watching reality TV to relax.

Reality TV has never been my thing—for years now, I’ve sat in silence listening to friends recap the latest episodes of Vanderpump Rules and Summer House, wondering what the hell they were talking about. There was a short stint in college when I got really into The Bachelor, but even that couldn’t hold my attention for more than a season. For whatever reason, Bravo TV culture has especially always icked me out—the infatuation and weekly dedication to screaming housewives and horny botswains never resonated with me, and honestly, just drove me nuts. I’m not one to yuck yums, but yuck. As my mother would say, “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?”

Not this year, I don’t. The change of heart came during the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day when I was off from work and, for once in what feels like a century, had nothing to do. Normally, when I legitimately have nothing to do (rare), I’m the first one to fill it with travel plans or an outdoor excursion or, at the very least, a walk around the block with my dog. I’m not really good at relaxing, probably because of that aforementioned motto my mother had successfully branded on my brain growing up. But after a particularly exhausting final quarter of telling people what to buy on the internet and covering holiday shopping, I was beyond tapped and wanted nothing more to do than melt into my couch for no less than a week straight.

Photo: Bravo TV

So I did. I melted into my parents’ sofa and binge-watched 2.5 seasons of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, completely disassociating into the dramatic lives of the Mormon rich and famous. For six days, I forgot all about the family drama that comes with the holidays, the emails I never answered before break, the knee exercises my physical therapist assigned me to do before our next session (oops.) My biggest problems became: How long was Jen’s pending wire fraud sentencing, why was everyone still being mean to Lisa, and what the heck really happened to Heather’s eye?! I had been blissfully swallowed by the Bravo void, and baby gorgeous (IYKYK), I was never turning back.

I’ve now returned to work, where I’m stressing about unanswered emails and drowning in product samples. To cope with it all, I’m watching more RHOSLC. So while many of you are resolving to give your bodies more water or exercise or more vegetables in 2023, I’m giving my brain over to Andy Cohen. Because much to my mother’s chagrin, I do have better things to do with my time… but sometimes, slipping into a Bravo-induced K-hole is just way more fun.