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But I Can't Play This Game... I've Gotta Go Watch That Game!

To err is human; to err online in front of the whole world, divine.

Heya, folks. Not a lot of time to talk right now.

I know, I know -- I had all afternoon. And much of the morning, for that matter.

But I had to take the dog to her training class, so she could be on Zoom.

And I really needed to get that document out to my friends, to ask about job opps.

And then my friend called -- you know, the one who had an extra ticket for the Patriots game tonight -- and he came over for a beer, and then it was time to pick the dog up from class.

(Okay, fine, it's 'doggie day care'. I call it 'training class' in a feeble effort to retain some small shred of dignity about the whole affair. But no. It's 'day care'. Go ahead and laugh. I should just go ahead and put a bow on the damn dog's head and skip her up and down the block, singing, 'The Good Ship Lollipop', all right?

There, are you happy? I've come clean. I know you're annoyed with me, but doesn't self-deprecating heart-pouring count for anything these days?)

So now I've got just a few minutes before another friend comes over, and we meet the first friend, and his girlfriend, and go marching off to Foxboro to see the Patriots and 'da Bears'. There's really not much time to say anything meaningful, I'm afraid.

Clearly, I didn't think my schedule out well enough this morning.

I'm not much of a planner, you see. I generally fly by the seat of my pants through life (which I've found is far more productive than flying around by the crotch of my pants, not to mention far less messy), and on most days, most things get done. Most of the time, anyway. Or at least the 'mission critical' tasks -- sleep, food, water, fantasy sports. The important stuff.

But today, I forgot to leave time for blogging. I kept thinking, 'I'll do that next', and then 'next' never happened. So here I am, hurriedly blitzing words onto the screen, with little planning and even less time. The game's at eight, so I probably won't even get back until one am or so. And in no shape to put fingers to keyboard in any meaningful way, if only from exhaustion and grilled meat overdose.

So, I'm afraid you'll have to make do with this. It's not much, but it's all I can offer you, and it's written with love. Or anxiety, and possibly even an upset stomach, which together can often feel a lot like love.

See? See what I'm saying? I don't even know what the hell that last paragraph meant. See what happens when I work without a net? Damn my unorganized ways!

Okay, there's my buddy now. We've gotta jet over to pick our other friends up, and then it's off! To, um, sit in traffic for an hour, most likely. Still, as soon as I post this, the adventure begins in earnest. Even crawling along the turnpike is exciting, when you're in Adventure Mode. So I'll have to talk to you again tomorrow, when I've got more time.

(Don't tell anyone, but I'm even planning a bit of a surprise. I'm not sure it'll work out, so don't spread the news around too far. I'll let you know tomorrow if it's going down.)

Until then, kick back and relax. Check out some other cool blogs, or turn on the telly. Maybe you'll even catch me at the Pats game. I'll be the one with a beer in his hand and hamburger all over his face, screaming like an idiot on fire for the home team. And oh yeah, I'm wearing a green shirt. Gotta give you some way to pick me out of everyone else who's there. See you tomorrow! Go Pats!

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