Well, I made it through the wilderness: I survived a Tuesday night without a new episode of Lost with only a modicum of shaking and withdrawal pains. Sure, I should be looking at this as a set-run for what will likely be the rest of my life without Lost , but it didn't remove any of the sting or pain of not having a new episode to think about (and write about) today. (That said, I probably slept better last night than I have in weeks, without Lost keeping me awake for fitful sleep of island-related dreams, bizarre theories, and an appearance or three of the Smoke Monster himself.) It wasn't easy. My Tuesday evenings have a strict schedule that's usually built around watching Lost at 9 pm: dinner is eaten way in advance, dishes washed, tea made, and the phones shut off altogether. I like my Lost silent and I watch it live so that I can discuss the previous act with my wife during the commercial breaks. Last night threw off that routine, so I took the opportunity to catch