There are lies we tell ourselves in college: “I’ll start studying early this time,” “I’ll go to bed at a reasonable hour,” “I’ll just watch one episode.”
That last one might be the most delusional of them all. Because let’s be honest, there is no such thing as “just one episode.” It’s a funny story we tell ourselves when we are trying to go to bed at 11 p.m. and have responsibilities in the morning and zero self-control at night.
It starts innocently enough. You open Netflix, Hulu, whatever platform it is, and you’re tired, but not “that” tired. You think, ‘I’ll just relax for a bit.’ One episode. Maybe two if it’s short, and then suddenly, it’s three in the morning, and you are emotionally attached to fictional characters whose problems now feel like your problems.
This is not a lack of self-control. Streaming platforms are literally designed to trap you. The countdown begins the second the credits roll. “Next episode starting in five seconds.” Five seconds! That’s not a choice, that’s a threat. A gentle, auto-play shaped trap.
And what are you supposed to do? Use willpower? In this economy? Be serious.
The problem is that every episode ends in a way that feels personally offensive. A cliffhanger. A dramatic reveal. A character making a questionable decision that you absolutely need to investigate immediately. Walking away at that moment feels illegal.
So you don’t. You stay. You negotiate with yourself. “Okay, just one more. This is the last one for real this time.” But “this time” is a liar, too. It has no authority. It has never meant anything, and let’s talk about the emotional math we do. One episode is 45 minutes. That’s manageable, but somehow 45 minutes becomes six episodes, which becomes “why is it light outside?”
At some point, you enter the “just one more episode” spiral phase. Time stops behaving normally. Your phone becomes harder to lift. Your blanket becomes emotionally heavier. Your body says, “We should stop,” but your brain is saying, “What if we don’t?”
And the worst part? You never regret it in the moment. It feels like a bonding experience, with the show, with yourself, with your questionable choices. It’s only the next morning, when your alarm goes off, and you’re functioning on three hours of sleep, that reality hits.
You whisper, once again, “never again.” But we both know that’s not true.
Because tonight, when everything is quiet, and your responsibilities are temporarily invisible, you will open that app again. You will tell yourself the same lie. You will say, “Just one episode.” I respect that. I really do. Just know we are all in this cycle together, one episode at a time.