Let me tell you, there’s a unique kind of helplessness that comes when your voice is “detained” by laryngitis. I’m not just talking about a little raspy whisper—I mean full-on, out-of-commission, barely-able-to-mutter-a-word laryngitis. As someone who tends to speak her mind (okay, maybe a little too much), being forced into silence felt like some kind of cosmic joke.

And so, there I was: unable to utter a single snarky comment or witty remark. No phone calls, no meetings, no barking orders at my dogs (they clearly enjoyed the break). My voice was officially out of order, and all I could do was sit… and watch. And what did I turn to? None other than the finest collection of bad movies and TV shows that streaming platforms had to offer.

One of my choices: Detained—a B-movie that somehow lived up to its name. Much like my voice, my brain was also being held hostage by the sheer absurdity on the screen. The plot made no sense, the acting was questionable, and yet, I couldn’t look away. It was like my mind was slowly being numbed, but in an oddly satisfying way. Detained might have been the cinematic equivalent of watching paint dry, but hey, I couldn’t complain—literally.

Without my voice, all I had was a remote and an ever-expanding lineup of shows and movies that blurred together in a haze of bad dialogue, predictable plot twists, and cringe-worthy moments. But here’s the kicker: after a while, the ridiculousness of it all became kind of… therapeutic? My voice may have been MIA, but my overactive brain had a chance to switch gears and settle into a state of lazy entertainment consumption. In a world that’s always go-go-go, sometimes you just need to surrender to the bad TV gods and let your mind drift into nonsense.

So, while I wait for my voice to rejoin the land of the living, I’ll take this little detour into the world of mindless B-movies and cheesy shows. My mind may be numbed, but there’s something to be said about letting yourself just be, even if it’s in front of a screen filled with plot holes the size of the Grand Canyon.

And when my voice does make its grand return, I’ll have plenty to say about the ridiculousness of it all—assuming, of course, I can pull myself away from my new guilty pleasure.