For the sake of anonymity, the person at the center of this post will remain anonymous. She doesn't want any readers to know her secret.
I have this roommate - we'll call her Lillian - and Lillian likes to watch the TV show Reba. It's the sitcom revolving around the life of Reba McEntire. After inadvertently viewing several snippets of episodes, I can't decide whether it's the life of Reba McEntire the country singer or just somebody with that name who has a sitcom. She doesn't really do any sort of work that I can perceive. Doesn't matter.
Where I'm going with this is the fact that we now have TiVo. Not really TiVo, but Time Warner Cable's version of TiVo, which they call DVR. Which is really a PVR, but maybe that name is copyrighted like TiVo. All I know is that DVR doesn't make any cartoony sounds when a button on the remote is pressed. Nor does it have a cartoony mascot icon thingy. It has no personality whatsoever, and that's fine as long as it does its job of recording television.
What I'm really getting at is that that Reba is taking up a lot of space on our DVR. Lillian did what's called a "series recording", which records Reba whenever it's on TV. It didn't take long for the DVR to start filling up to max capacity, because sometimes Reba is on 10 times daily.
Lillian has a hard time keeping up with the Reba on the DVR, and it seems like at time it's a job. "Got the DVR down to 65% full" she says. But when I go to see SportsCenter (the only series I'm currently recording), I can page down the DVR menu several times and it looks like I've been on the same page because it just has a list of about 7 lines that all say "Reba". The only perceptible clue to anything happening as I page down the menu is that slight flash of menu pages turning when the pages turn.
Recently Lillian was on one of her job-like crusades to watch and delete as many Rebas as possible in order to get the DVR down to a more comfortable level. She finished one Reba and deleted it, then said to me "I just deleted a Reba and the DVR didn't go down, it went up." Lillian was perplexed and somewhat distraught over the fact that her hard work didn't net any result, but instead did the opposite. I said "maybe it was recording a Reba while you were watching that one. There are like 10 on a day, and unless you can keep that up, it's a losing battle."
Lillian let out a heavy sigh. The she picked up the remote and watched another. Thank God there are only 125 episodes.