There are some nights when the bed is so comfortable you feel as if you are sinking into the pillows and blankets. It's a wonderful feeling that doesn't come often enough for me. Unfortunately, it also makes it very hard to get out of bed in the morning. Especially when it is dark and cold and your bed seems like a safe haven from the monsters of Monday.
So I haven't had enough coffee yet and my mind is still stuck somewhere in the dreams of last night, where I didn't have enough money to pay for my food at the deli, and DJ was running away from someone or something but was wearing cleats and couldn't move fast enough. Anyhow, all I can offer for this morning is some random musings.
Like, how the Packers' run to the top was depressingly short lived. I'm almost happy for the Bears; they were never one of those teams I hated. But I sure do feel this sense of satisfying spiteful smugness that the Lions' first win of the season came against the Vikings. How the mighty have fallen. I've been informed that despite my horrible, embarassing showing in this year's office football pool (made more humiliating by the fact that I finished tied for first last year), I am still in first place in the Monday night pool, which pulls in a few hundred for the winner. So this football season may not be a total washout for me after all.
I had a revelation yesterday. Tim Allen must have done something wrong in a past life or someone in Hollywood is blackmailing him. He is being forced to make an insipid, horrendous holiday movie every year. I'm not saying he deserves to be making good movies, I'm just saying that it must suck to be Satan's tool.
And while Time Magazine is probably agonizing over who the person of the year should be (Osama? Guliani? The Anti-Christ?),please keep in mind that Jessica has already chosen yours truly for that honor. I humbly and gratefully accept, and with the power accorded me as the Person of the Year, I hereby declare today today to be Friday instead of Monday. Go forth and enjoy.