(No, this post is not about bras. Listen, if you have signed up for my newsletter, and have received nothing, I apologize. We’re working on it. There seems to be a glitch with Mailchimp. Thanks for your patience. As soon as I get my email list going, I’ll send out some freebies).

I always seem to be out of the prime-time loop.

When colleagues were going around talking about gabagool and Anthony Soprano, I was like, “Who?”

Then everything was about Walter White, and I was like, “Who?”

Suddenly, Winter was coming, Michael Scott was a dick, and It Was Always Sunny in Philadelphia. There was something or other about squid, and now I’m seeing posts about something called “Succession.”

Not being a binge watcher leaves me bereft of a lot of pithy cultural allusions. If I ever do have the time and the patience to sit and watch television for hours (I can barely sit still for a sixty minute pedicure), here are the shows I would watch:

“Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” Andy Samberg, brilliant in everything he does.

“Yellowstone.” Kevin Costner, my lifelong crush, still gorgeous. And Kelly Reilly, jeez, how can a woman be this beautiful?

“Curb Your Enthusiasm.” Larry David, my comedy guru. I identify so closely with Larry David, it’s unnerving. How long would it take for me to watch eleven seasons?

“South Park.” Makes me laugh until it’s hard to breathe. Mesmerizingly brilliant.

“Billionaire,” and “House of Cards.” Paul Giamatti and Kevin Spacey, and best casts in the world.

“The Undoing.” I wanted so much to watch this mini-series with Hugh Grant and Nicole Kidman, but I couldn’t work it out.

“American Horror Story.” Right up my alley.

“Veep.” Julia Louise, with her perfect comedic timing.

“Sharp Objects.” Intriguing.