I’m approaching my mid-40s, which means that I’ve been watching television and movies since I was a young child. I should know what I like — nay, I do know what I like when it comes to this stuff. But… maybe I don’t? Sorry if this is coming off as a bit neurotic, but I’ve got a bad case of Netflix Paralysis. You know: endlessly scrolling across a vast landscape of tiles — some familiar, some obscure — each beckoning your click to continue fueling the symbiotic streaming relationship. Seriously, my search : watch ratio stands at around 10 : 1. This is a real thing, and I’m out there on the front lines almost every night, trying to decide if I want to take a ride on Bojack Horseman or climb Dante’s Peak (I told you I was in a bad way).

Yes, Netflix Paralysis is dumb for so, so many reasons — not the least of which is the fact that, for chrissake, I’m only choosing how I want to spend an hour or two. Possibly three. Okay, it might turn into four tops. Still, it’s not as if I’m agonizing over signing a car lease or helping my kid pick her college. Furthermore, if this is such a tedious exercise, there are a boatload of other, worthier things I could be doing with my time. Reading. Manscaping. Shame-eating. But no! I’m a slave to the scroll. You might even say that I’m drawn to it like Rachel McAdams is drawn to time-travel movies (she’s been in three! Guess how I know?!).

Anyway, they say that in order to solve a problem you have to get to the root of it or some crap. Well, here’s the crap: I’ve think I’ve narrowed down the several reasons why I’ve become trapped in the Netflix vortex. And since you’re nearly 300 words in, you’re gonna read about it!

1.) I don’t want to get sucked into binge-watching. Binge-watching is problematic for a number of reasons. First, it’s always seemed a little cultish to me. If you have a friend who’s bingeing on a show, they’ll invariably try to suck you in, too: Omigod, Dexter is soooo good. I tore through the first season last night. You’ve got to watch this. It’s as if one show has unlocked the key to nirvana, and they’re all too eager to make you part of their experience. Second, for far too many of us, binge-watching is like crack, which, as you may know, is whack. I don’t want to be that guy taking in epis of Sons of Anarchy while I’m driving. And exercising. And sitting on the toilet. People need their fix, even at the risk of shirking their responsibilities. I’m sorry, but it needs to be asked: what happened to destroying one’s life by more traditional methods, such as cheating on one’s spouse or gambling? Allowing oneself to be consumed by GOT for five hours a day is weak sauce. In full disclosure, I have binged before: St. Elsewhere (shut up), last year. 137 episodes… Howie Mandel with hair… Denzel before he was Denzel… the goofy charm of Ed Begley, Jr. My God, I can name where every doctor on the series went to medical school. No one should possess this knowledge. We’re simply not designed to become so immersed in one show. Thusly, I avoid most series.

2.) Where’s all the “great” content? Despite the voluminous amount of original content that Netflix spews forth, there’s still a lot of crap populating Big Red. For every Snowpiercer, there’s a The Man Who Knew Too Little or 16 Blocks. I know they can’t all be winners, but I’ve found myself on more than one occasion wishing for a “2010s Nicolas Cage” filter for my streamline my experience. Maybe I should embrace the less desirable filler on the Netflix roster. I mean, without it, how would we know what the quality stuff is?

3.) Can I do better than this? On the occasion I do find something I like, I’m plagued by the notion that I can find something more entertaining. To be sure, this isn’t Netflix’s fault, rather my own neuroticism. I end up abandoning something suitable in a quixotic quest for an even greater level of entertainment. Oh my God, I’ve contracted the most irritating of maladies: FOMO. I thought only millennials and assholes got that. I guess it would be easier to swallow if I applied such prudence in other aspects of life. Not really! I spent just as much time deliberating which zombie flick I wanted to watch last week as I did choosing which new car to buy. In the end, all that extra searching rarely pays off with whatever supposed entertainment value I experience.

4.) Do I even really want to watch something? While I don’t watch much TV, it does still hold a place in my daily ritualistic activities. Perhaps I’m just going through the motions, indulging Netflix as part of my routine. Day ends, time to drift off to Stream City. My sub-conscience may be telling me that the same ‘ol ain’t so satisfying. It’s possible that I should be doing something else, like reading or writing letters of atonement to the many, many people I’ve wronged over the years.

5.) Trying to fit the mood. I usually do my Netflixing later at night, lying in bed. It’s hard to find something to fit my mood at that late hour! Action movies: too stimulating. Drama: too demanding to follow. Documentary: I’m afraid of turning into a Documentary Douche (watching docs is fine, the people that won’t shut up about them certainly are not). Horror: Too disturbing, nightmares. Comedy: Perhaps, but finding a good comedy can be no laughing matter. Yeah, I trotted that lame joke out. But I’m already portraying myself as kinda insufferable, so might as well go for the gold. Whatever the case, I can’t help but come to one conclusion: I’m going to die alone.

When you get down to it, Netflix Paralysis is just a symptom of the Big Problem that technology has created for us: it’s foisted the cursed marriage of immediacy and more on us. In the days when we had the Big Three networks, we were served up shows on a weekly basis and, oops, if you missed one you’d have to catch the rerun several weeks later. Appointment television meant, well, actually watching something when it was broadcast. When we wanted to rent movies we’d have to get off of our substantially smaller asses to go to a physical location to rent them. If you grabbed a stinker, oh well. This system of having our TV and movies parsed out to us seemed to work pretty well. Now, with the embarrassment of riches at the ready, it seems like we’re in some endless race to consume content. I can theoretically gobble up three seasons of a prestige offering from HBO indulged in a spree of several Netflix standup specials in less than a week. Not much savoring going on there; it’s almost clinical in its efficiency. Perhaps Netflix Paralysis is a reaction to having so many entertainment options foisted upon us?