So “Glee” is back today, I guess. I’m not really sure because, quite frankly, I’ve lost track. I stopped watching back in November after that atrocity wrapped in a steaming tortilla of awfulness that was “The End of Twerk.” I took it off my DVR season pass that night. And I haven’t seen an episode since. How do I feel about that? Hmm, well, I feel really fucking good about it, actually – thanks for asking. Over the months I’ve toyed with the idea of catching up. I could put it on in the background and do more important tasks like organizing my sock drawer or cleaning out the cat box. That last seems particularly appropriate. But in the end, I would rather watch a rerun of “House Hunters” where two whiny people whine about the lack of granite countertops than “Glee.” Somehow, even the people who complain about not having stainless steel appliances seems less grating than those kids. I’m still deciding whether I’ll watch the 100th episode. I’m leaning toward a maybe yes, only because I know so many of the actors and characters I actually cared about when I used to actually care about this show will be returning. And for a flash I was worried that if I did tune in I would be confused, having missed so many episodes. But then I laughed at myself for a good 10 minutes because, idiot, this is “Glee.” It probably has better continuity the longer you don’t watch. I don’t really know when the 100th episode will be airing either. Obliviousness toward “Glee” is my new happy place. It’s strange, really, how something that once felt fresh and – while always seriously flawed – important can fade into such obscurity. But, there you have it. That’s “Glee.” I guess. I wouldn’t actually know. Like I said, I stopped watching.