Confessions of a Vern

I'm such a Vern. Unequivocally, without a doubt, 100% Vern.

I am so addicted to the Sci-Fi channel show Ghost Hunters, it's not healthy. The paranormal is just so fascinating; I truly believe that our bodies are merely vessels for the spiritual cores within, which live on after we die. But there's also a healthy fear and respect of the afterlife as well.

So this show is a bit like watching a car accident happening, when you can't stand the sight of blood, but you do it anyway. As a Vern, I go looking for what I fear, hoping it's not there, then run away from it screaming when it is.

I should not be allowed to watch this show. C knows I should not be allowed to watch this show. He knows this, as I can't watch it by myself and play it off my DVR only when he's home.

You may laugh and rightly so. Not since my Fear-watching days have I managed to incorporate so many unexplained ghostly 'happenings' into my everyday life. The dog's sitting up and staring at something? It sees a ghost. That white dot in a picture I took? That's an orb. The keys that weren't there a minute ago and now they are? A you-know-what moved them.

This show, combined with my overactive imagination, is going to be the end of me. I will be unable to get past the idea that there are no ghostlies lurking in any additional rooms I could be occupying. I'm consigned to living my life out in a studio apartment, hugging my dog in fear. Meanwhile, C will continue to keep rolling his eyes at this show that features two plumbers that call themselves professional ghost hunters by night.