How We Spend Our Evenings

I wish I could say that I have a weakness for boiled kale, speed walking and scholarly annals. But I can't. Instead, I have an Achilles Heel for stupid digital games. I was a Tetris fiend for a spell. I played stupid amounts of Solitaire and Hearts to distill the insanity of college studying. I've had sporadic bouts with Sudoku. And I'm sure there were others, which I can't recall. I was clean, addiction free, for a long time, three years maybe, until Nate introduced me to my presently preferred addiction--a miserably mindless little amusement on his cell phone called Bubble Breaker, (or Bubble Pop, I can't be sure.) No matter the moniker, I'm Addicted. Late at night, after Nate's gone to bed, I put it on silent mode and play a few games 'til I can't hold my weary eyelids open. Last night while Nate pried old caulk out of the crevices of our shower, he begged me to come sit in the bathroom and visit. I declined, reasoning that the tile floor was so cold and there wasn't a cozy place to sit, but assured him I could converse just as easily while lying in our bed. All the while, I laid in that fluffy cloud of comfort like a secret-keeping scoundrel, playing Bubble Pop while my life's partner sought career coaching and spilled his soul to me about professional apprehensions. He had no idea about the distraction until I ran into the bathroom to show him my new high score -- 930 points! (If you were a Bubble Pop fiend, you'd be wide-eyed and slack-jawed right now. That's a good score.) I outscored my former champion self by more than 300 points!
Nate pretended to be irritated for a few minutes and then inquired about my Bubble Pop strategy in suspect disbelief.
I never should have divulged my secrets. Later that night I got what I suppose were my just deserts for being a multi-tasking, half-listening wife. After laying in bed with his cell phone for several quiet minutes, Nate flashed the screen before my eyes and, behold! High Score: 1878.

Item added to Life Goals List: Reclaim Bubble Pop Crown. I suspect I might be working on that 'til my dying day along with remembering to put the toilet paper roll on the spring-loaded dispenser and flossing daily.
So, one juicy confession deserves another...what are your shameful (or not so shameful) addictions?