Stupor Bowl Sunday

I don't know, there is something about football in the background of my typing that makes me feel overheated and vaguely drugged. I have no idea why. I like football well enough when I am paying attention to it. But as background noise? It causes me to zone. Maybe it's the stupidity of the announcers. I don't feel this way about hockey. You can always hear pucks zinging around and Canadian accents and it's sort of happy and icy...

We hate the Bears, so we're satisfied that they lost. I would just like to throw out there that, this summer, I poured Peyton Manning some water. True story. Because he and his mom ate lunch at my restaurant. (They live here.) But I totally would not have caught on that it was him if all the guys I work with hadn't been drooling over him. He wasn't as tall as I expected.

We didn't get our Battlestars yesterday, and we probably won't get them until Tuesday. Color me pissed! Now I'm going to make tuna melts, I think. Is it 11:00? Our rations are in a terribly dire state. We have no food. But fortunately, all I need is tuna, cheese, and bread, and those I have.