Sunday, Awful Sunday

Today is the worst day of my life. Actually, I have had approximately 50 of these horrible days. It's the first, of way too many, football Sundays. If that is not enough to push a sports hater into a deep depression, tomorrow is Monday Night Football! Oh, yay.

So begins my season of hiding in the bedroom, Sunday shopping and cooking. The cooking thing worked well at our old home because the kitchen was actually in a separate room. Now, though, our kitchen is about 10 feet away from our monstrosity of a television set. Naturally, Dennis is in his office, merely listening to the TV, so the volume is on extra loud.

I have never enjoyed sports, but football is by far one of the stupidest sports that I can possibly imagine being played. Everyone yells throughout the complete game. Either it's "Go, go, go!" or "Boo, boo, boo." Even the announcers shout. Don't they know they have a microphone sitting in front of their faces?

Then there are the breaks. It appears that football players must not be very bright, because every other play, they seem to need a pause to speak with the big guy. Meanwhile, the rest of us are required to view the last play over, and over, and over. As if watching the repeat of a 7 second play isn't dreadful enough, we also have to endure all that shrieking by the announcers, again.

Okay, Dennis will tell me tomorrow, after he has read this, that I am whining, once again. I suppose I am. But no matter how many times he tells me I am whining, I will never, ever like such a foolish sport. At least not until I make as much money as that fellow sitting on the side lines. He never has to play because he got injured. Now that's a position in football that I could, maybe, enjoy. And then, maybe, just maybe, I could stare at a game. Of course, the volume would have to be turned off.

Until tomorrow,
Ann (and Dennis)
Living with Shy-Drager and Multiple System Atrophy