Cicely, my love

I shouldn't be allowed to watch DVDs of old Northern Exposure episodes before going off to work in places with unlimited internet access and no colleagues looking over my shoulder, especially late at night when blood sugars are low and emotions are close to the surface.

It's not the first time I've had cause to note this, and it's not the first time I've visited an NX fansite and suddenly, inexplicably, found myself dissolving into a jelly-like tearful mush at the unwelcome realisation that, hey, it's only a TV programme and these people and places weren't ever real.

But they ought to have been.