A More Perfect Union...

Sunday marked the end of something special. For seven seasons, I have been entertained by The West Wing. It began as a wonderful program with amazing writing that kept me on the edge of my seat. As things in my World, specifically my Country, changed drastically around me, it became an escape: a place I could pretend existed; a place that was governed by idealistic standards; a place that doesn't necessarily exist today.
The West Wing was a ritual and the only program I have ever scheduled around. Wednesday nights were 'date-night' for me and The Mister. When we first met six years ago, The Mister had never seen The West Wing but to impress me, he watched along. It didn't take long for him to get enthralled, too.
Being young and poor, our ritual consisted of making dinner, opening a bottle of cheap wine and whisking ourselves away to A More Perfect Union.
We fell in love cooking together and sharing an ideal program with our ideal views. The West Wing always led to great conversations that gave us insight to each other (a bottle of wine didn't hurt either).
Last year the move to Sunday night threw us off a bit, but we adjusted. We are still looking for a special something during the week. Something to fill the void and give us another ritual. Our lives are different now; we're married, for starters. My job has changed insanely and The Mister is full of work responsibility. We do cook together and certainly enjoy our fair share of adult beverages, but we will definitely miss our time with The West Wing.
I'll admit, I cried and drank far more than the bottle of cheap wine. Honestly, it's part of the reason I didn't write my goodbye yesterday: I was too hung over to process it. I felt like I lost a friend.
So long President Barlett; farewell C.J., Josh, Toby, Charlie, Donna and Sam... it's been a great time. Adieu.