I'm glad that football season ends today. I can see the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, since the playoffs only last for 14 weeks or so. I figure that by Easter, the Super Bowl will be over and we'll have about a week before training camp starts.
No, I'm not a fan. I don't really hate football, either, I'm just indifferent. But by week 17, the indifference is definitely tinged with just a touch of hatred mingled with profound tiredness. Plus, I'm married to a Redskins fan. I can only stand so much spluttering outrage at a time.
I started another post last night, when we got home from Philadelphia, but that's not going so well. It's just one of those times again. I want to write something, and my usual method of combatting writer's block, wherein I sit in front of the computer until something occurs to me, is also not yielding results. So that's why you get to read mild complaining about football and weather. Did I not mention my hatred of this vile weather? Consider that whine served, chilled.