I'm a real "bah humbug" sort of mood on that front.
Probably because I'm feeling deluged by all the couples swarming eveywhere, attached at the hip, being so super saccharine that I contemplate vomiting to make myself feel better. (Yeah, I'm not the sunshine and puppy dogs type.) Making me more annoyed is that one of the cats has gotten into that game. She ran out the door a few weeks ago and is now hanging out in the backyard, running around with a calico. When I called to her the other day, she contemplated coming over before following him. Bitch. Even my kitty face is one of them. Fucking couples.
This morning, I was amused (yet not) to hear this loud ass kid on the bus with the analogy: "Women are like basketball players. If you get tired of having them in the game, bench 'em." My first thought was that had to be spoken by a punk who obviously doesn't have sex. But then again, with kids nowadays, you never know.
In expanding the analogy, I like to think of myself interacting with the season as a fairweather fan with a sweet corporate discount price for season tickets. I could buy the tickets and get the nice courtside seats, but maybe instead I'll just put that money in my 401K while following the results in the paper. After all, my home team's performance has been spotty. No point in throwing your money away on bullshit. But, if the squad got some fresh blood with skills, I'd be courtside wearing my jersey. It's all about hedging your bets.
ETA: And like clockwork, just when I got too comfortable in my whatever, I got a call from Farmer. He'll be back to shake things up next week. *gulp* I think I grinned so hard looking at the caller ID that I almost broke my face. Things are looking up...slightly. And also, a call from my volunteer party guy. I'm smiling again! One more call and it'll be a trifecta of those who make the supercynic facade fade away.Posted by Candicissima at May 19, 2004 12:38 PM