For the rest of us, love is a slow burn: we stupidly think we're too cool or wise to fling away our hearts so easily.
And so it was with me and Glee, the TV show that's cheesier than a mouse's banquet. Friends banged on about how funny this US programme was, how cleverly it stood up for the underdog and celebrated the triumph of the teenage oddball, how it not only provided a home for misfits, but also proved they could be heroic. Instead, I averted my eyes and did the ostrich dance.
But thanks to the UKs infatuation with Glee, it was nigh impossible to resist the interminable re-runs. And so before you could warble along to Don't Stop Believin, I was a card-carrying Gleek.
Now, months after holding onto it, E4 finally screens the second series tonight. I am so excited I can hardly keep my jazz hands still. That's my Monday nights sorted for the next nine weeks...