My name is "Riley," and ... I'm a soapaholic.

Every day this week, the beloved Dr. Marlena Evans Black has been sitting up in her hospital bed, confessing to the brutal murders of nine of her friends and family.

Those at her bedside, anxious to hear why she'd slit her ex-husband's throat on his wedding day or why she'd stab a girl and stuff her in a Thanksgiving turkey pinata, have been outraged at each subsequent confession. Marlena, under the influence of a truth serum, has been telling all about the murders to gathered loved ones, giggling and laughing while regaling in tales of death.

You might think me sick or perverse, but her laughing and making jokes while talking about savagely beating her alcoholic best friend to death with a liquor bottle was HILARIOUS.

The only thing she has yet to explain is why she did it.

It makes absolutely no sense for her saintly, immensely popular character to do this sort of thing, which is why she long went unsuspected of the crimes.

And it's absolutely great, campy TV.

Two or three weeks from now, "Days of Our Lives" has planned another shocking twist in the tale, and you better believe that I can't wait to hear what it is.

The writers say the murderer is not Marlena's evil twin. (She had one ... but that one was murdered onscreen in the '80s.) It's not someone who had plastic surgery to look like her. (In a hilarious twist, that character came back a couple weeks ago only to confess that she had nothing to do with it.) And Marlena's not possessed by the devil. (She was possessed by the devil in the early '90s, and they went through all the flashbacks of that a couple weeks ago to prove that wasn't it.) It's not some brain-implanted microchip making her do this. (They did a head scan of her a couple days ago to prove that she wasn't under outside control.)

At this point, it looks like Marlena's just a killer, which is maybe the best twist of all.

As a result of this increasingly preposterous yet self-aware story, I've become, after long periods of trying to stay away from the show I started watching when I was 11, addicted to it once again.

I'm not ashamed of it. I'm not ashamed that I've started going to lunch at the Blimpie near my office every day at 1 p.m. because they play it on TV. (Heck, I think the Pakistani family who runs that Blimpie learned to speak English by watching Marlena's shenanigans. And, hey, if Julia Roberts can admit to watching it on "Oprah," then I think it's OK to confess my addiction.)

For some reason, DAYS, while remaining more than a little bit stupid, has gotten me involved in it again.

Damn it.