The moment my house mates found my guilty pleasure
OPINION:I KEEP the kitchen clean, I'm always punctual on rent and I even bake a mean batch of cookies to share from time to time- I don't mind boasting that I'm a pretty good housemate.
But when I moved into my new home to take on my role at the Daily, I brought with me some baggage that I was eager to keep a secret until absolutely necessary.
I came home on Wednesday night bubbling with nerves, knowing the truth was about to be revealed.
At 7.30pm I nestled into the couch, cup of tea in hand and our dalmation at my side, as a sea of red roses splashed across my television screen and a highly anticipated twinkling noise echoed through the house.
My housemate looked up at me from the dining table, one eyebrow raised.
"You're not serious?” he asked from his high horse.
I was. And it was too late for him to retract my lease.
I'm a die-hard Bachelor fan and it felt good that my affinity for trashy television was finally aired and I could enjoy another season of trashy reality television out in the living room.
"Good evening ladies,” came the comforting voice of host Osher Gunsberg.
For the next hour he rolled his eyes and made comments about how daft or desperate some of the contestants were.
"That's the point,” I argued.
I love coming home to cheap entertainment, tuning out from the news stream for a few hours and revelling in drama that doesn't affect me.
By the end of the episode my house mate had one eye on his laptop, one eye on the screen.
The haters are just as invested.