As of this moment, I am whipped. I am beat. I think I could go outside, lie on the tarmac in the rain and fall fast asleep.
And when compared to the day-in, day-out physicality of my job, a funeral pales. Those of you who know me know that my motto is "Work hard. Play harder." And here I am fatigued after a few hours of mulling around and hugging people.
No talk radio today. No newspaper. And up 'til now, no Internet either. Perhaps that's why I'm feeling so drained, because I am informationally compromised. I dunno. Probably not.
I did catch the fact that our wildly ineffective elected representatives in Washington D.C. are looking to put a major hurt on former major league pitcher, Roger Clemens.
Imagine that. Congress can lie to us, but we dare not lie to them. Pure bullspit, through and through. He should revoke his citizenship and tell the lot of them to go straight to Afghanistan. Hell, if Congress were to ship off to a forward fire base tonight, I'd consider joining the Taliban. Well, assuming the grub and the benefits are good.
Election day tommorrow. Thank Allah. After this one more day, I will not have to listen to Matt Cartright whining like a little girlie on WILK anymore. Ooh, Tim Holden was mean to me. He said this and that. He's a big meanie.
After that week-long whine of his, I'm pulling for the outsider from Erie or Pittsburgh or wherever they found that mean guy. Yep, I'm pulling for the big, bad meanie from somewhere over there.
Anywho, while the ranks of our family may have thinned, we trudge on.