On an unrelated note, I think that Dave and I should sell ourselves to other cities that are in big sports markets. It is no secret that there has not been a championship team in Cleveland since 1964 when the Browns won. It seems that any team that we root for loses. My loyalties are for sale to the highest bidder. If you want me to root for your opponent, let me know and, for the right price, I will take them out of the playoffs. This will almost certainly mean a winner for your city. I am mentioning this because as I write this post, the MLB playoffs are on my television. We were rooting for Milwaukee, but since Dave has been watching, the Brewers are blowing a one-run lead in the ninth inning of game 5. For the sake of the city of Milwaukee, I have asked him to turn it off, but he insists on watching. I will apologize in advance to the city of St. Louis since that is who he is rooting for in the next game. Detroit can thank me since I distracted him last night during their game with the Yankees. I commandeered the remote and made him watch the DVR'd episode of "The Big Bang Theory."
I can tell that fall is coming. The hickory nuts in the back are falling and when they hit the deck in the back yard they sound like bullets. It is colder than I am prepared for, and the leaves are changing. The final straw is when the Goldenrod starts to bloom and makes me miserable.
Can you tell that Fall is not my favorite season? It is the precursor to Winter which is my black hole. I can already feel myself falling into the pit that is called winter depression. Last year I just let it happen. It was a long and brutal winter that went on FOREVER! That is really not an exaggeration.
This year I am doing something about it. I have joined a gym and plan on taking Zumba classes. My friend is going to play racquetball with me and we will take out all our aggressions on a little blue ball. It is better than taking them out on Dave, or our kids.
Last year was the closest that I have come to losing all my marbles. It was a true white-knuckle ride. It felt like the walls were crumbling down on me and for every foot I would make up the tunnel I would fall back about six inches. I really need to move from here to a place where it is warmer for more of the year than it is cold. The fact of the matter is that until I can get 24 immediate family members to move with me, it is not going to happen. Until I win the lottery or convince them that we would all be happier moving to South Carolina, I will stay here in Ohio with our cold weather and losing sports teams and dream of a day when I will be warm again.
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