Amy asks a vital question, but she doesn’t know the half of it.

For the past couple months, as both Jake and I spent countless hours gaping at every possible bit of media coverage on the Jackson trial (with both of us falling deeply in maternal love with Court TV queen Nancy Grace, whose wise heart pumps spunk), we swore that when this whole thing was over, we’d cancel our cable and rejoin the living.

With Jackson safely behind barser, fully acquittedand the cable-killer scheduled to arrive sometime this week, I’m on the brink of some freezing cold turkey.

Wish me luck, and if you see me jonesing in the gutter, be kind.