Great, Now I Have To Go To The Soccer Game

So there's one more Leagues Cup Match being played tonight.  Minnesota United FC wasn't going to be one of the four MLS clubs (out of 16 participating in this tournament) to reach the Knockout Round after losing in regulation last Tuesday to FC Juarez, but just in case, their Shootout Loss to Tigres eliminated them for good.

I knew MNUFC wasn't advancing after last Tuesday's Loss, so I didn't think there was any good reason to watch what was now a glorified exhibition, so I sold my ticket for Friday's Game.  That got swept up quickly; Tigres isn't part of the "Big Four" Liga MX squads that are considered the most popular, but maybe they are popular anyway.  I had also put up today's/Tuesday's ticket up for sale.  But probably because the opponent is a franchise, Atlante, that technically bought its way up to the Mexican first flight (it's a long story), the ticket hasn't been sold.  Thing is, when I saw it wasn't selling on SeatGeek for $20, I tried selling it for less, but it wouldn't let me.  Guess SeatGeek has some things they won't do.

But for a week now, no one was buying.  I really don't want to go, but I already paid for this ticket, so if no one wants it -- shit, man, I'll go, dammit.  I have to go now!  Weird saying that, but (and I'll touch more on this in the WMNSS), things with the Loons are pretty bad now, and I don't expect them to turn it around tonight/Tuesday night, even in a de facto Friendly vs. Atlante.

Hey, Does Anyone Want A Soccer Ticket?

So last/Tuesday night, at Allianz Field, MNUFC lost its first Leagues Cup Match to FC Juarez.  This is the first of three Group Stage Games.  The Leagues Cup is weird in that you play only three Matches, and all of them are against Liga MX, but you are in a "division" with all the other Major League Soccer clubs also playing in the Leagues Cup.  There are 16 in total, and only four from these 16 American franchises advance to the Knockout Round.

That means that with this Loss, there's almost no chance the Loons are reaching the Knockouts.  So honestly, I don't feel like going to the other two Matches.  Why?  What for?  I could be, you know, going through my stuff instead of seeing what is now a glorified exhibition.  So hey, does anyone want a soccer ticket?

Zynga Poker Ain't Fun Right Now

Just got burned by Zynga Poker.  This player, or "player," beat me with a straight when I had a three-of-a-kind, then beat me even though I had a straight because he got a flush.  I've suspected for some time that I'm not playing against real people, only bots.  This is not the first time I've lost good hands to the same "person" either, so what happened just now only confirms my suspicions.

Some time ago, I played with someone I'm convinced is real.  That's because the same raw deal that just happened to me happened to him, and he was using the chat feature to vent about losing -- "See, this guy's not real, he's cheating!"  I wanted to say I agree with him, but he left before I could talk back.  I feel for the guy.  I imagine he quit Zynga Poker not too long after.

I've also noticed that people are getting "better" in Zynga Poker.  After reaching ... I think it's called Elite Level 1 (?), I've dropped two levels in the past two weeks, and I'm in danger of getting relegated again this week.  Try as I might, I am not winning pots, and the pots I am winning don't zoom me up the leaderboard like they did before.  In the meantime, lots of other "players" are winning and making big "money."  I don't know if it has to do with Zynga Poker leaving Facebook in the fall, but I don't like how everyone else seems to be doing well all of a sudden now.

I have thought about leaving Zynga Poker once I can't play it on Facebook.  What is happening now is making me think that decision is a wise one.

They Stay The Same Age. But Me Getting Older Might Be A Problem After All

So after work last/Saturday night I went to this roast beef place just south of my company.  I was on my way to the Black Hart to see MNUFC play (and lose -- goddamn, what a fucking shit pass to give up the Game-winner).  I really, really wanted to see The Preakness Stakes, but because I decided to stay a bit over to grab even more overtime, I thought I resigned myself that I probably wouldn't make it to the Black Hart to see the race, especially since I had my heart set on getting this place's legendarily good roast beef after work last/Saturday night because it will be the only time in the foreseeable future 1) it would be on my way to doing other things and 2) I would naturally be hungry right after work.

I get there and the cashier taking my order is a beaut.  Fuck yeah, she is gorgeous.  But young.  I think, and hope, not teenager young, but she could not have graduated from college.  Seeing a hot young woman speaking to you, even only because she has to, brightens my day, so I order a roast beef sandwich cheerfully.  And what do you know -- this restaurant actually has a TV.  (I've been to this place before, but it's been years since the last time, so maybe they didn't have a TV then.)  I could relax and let go of my stress because I could see the horse race after all (well, the reception was poor, but at least I saw Napoleon Solo outrace the other horses at the stretch run without the feed cutting out).  I had an excuse to talk to this babe again; this time, I requested the TV be turned on to the Preakness, and because I had a reason to stay beyond eating my sandwich, I ordered french fries too, which I had planned to order until I decided to stay late at work and calculated that even though I couldn't catch the race in time, I should still make an effort to get to the Black Hart as quickly as possible ... which makes no sense now that I typed out that thought.

Anyway ... have no complaints with her service.  In fact, when I ordered fries, she just skipped past the tip screen, which I guess means she likes me ... ?  But it's not as if I could chat her up or anything.  She served me my roast beef and fries, and that was it when it came to interaction.

Still, she is fucking hot.  And as I finally left after eating and watching the race, it just so happened that three young women entered and immediately began speaking to that cashier.  They obviously are friends with the cashier from school who dropped by to chat or eat or both.  They were fucking hot, and unlike the cashier, who had to dress for work, these friends dressed for the hot weather we had and, well, dressed like young women, with their goddamn boner-inducing midriffs hanging out and shit.  If I didn't have to go -- and if I were younger and less savvy -- I would sit down and steal looks at these three babes.

And then I realized that it was most important for me at that time to go because I had plans.  I can say that my younger self would've dropped everything I would've done because ogling these chicks would be an urge I could not get over.  And beyond that, the age gap was so apparent as to be instinctive.  Even if I could assume these women were of college age, they still would be less than half my age.  Could I even think to have small talk with them?  What would we even talk about?  TikTok?  The new Olivia Rodrigo album?  What they're studying?  Finally, from the quick glance I took of the faces and bodies of these three hotties (do people say "hotties" anymore, or am I cringe saying that?) I think ... well, that they all look the same -- with each other, and with the cashier they said hi to.  Maybe if I sat and looked at them for a longer, creepier period of time, I can discern distinct differences.  I mean, they can't be quadruplets.  But am I wrong to think that all young women these days look alike?  I don't think I can say yes, but I'm going to stick to my guns and not say no.

Not going to lie; if I were a lot younger, I would be masturbating to the memory of these four babes.  That feels ... wrong now.  So maybe Matthew McConaughey was also wrong in Dazed And Confused -- even though what his character is saying would now be construed as Trump Disease:

Can't Believe I'm Talking About The Jynx Game For The Third Time, But ...

... remind me to never buy a ticket to this team until they win a championship again.  I had a great seat, but then I had a great seat to see a chokejob up close.  Goddamn, I'm still so fucking mad.  Just glad af that the ticket was free.

My Time Is Not My Own (Again)

See, I was so busy this weekend ... that I didn't get around to blog post something about the weekend until the weekend was over.

This past weekend was one where I was, yeah, super busy.  I had a volunteer event down south of here Saturday afternoon, and I had the Loons Match Sunday afternoon.  Both of them were in the afternoon, like I said, but those were things I was planning on doing, so that means I was busy over the weekend.  So much so that I had to set the alarm on my phone for both days, something I usually don't do and usually do dread.  To be completely fair, I woke up on my own on Saturday -- early enough, in fact, to water the plants in the morning.  But the phone woke me up on Sunday, and it felt like I was going to work.  Blech.

Come to think of it, I'm busy this week, too.  I had an alumni watching event last/Monday night and saw my team get their asses kicked.  Tonight/Tuesday night I am planning on seeing my first movie in a while, Ready Or Not 2: Here I Come.  I thought the first one was a kick, so I am looking forward to a sequel I didn't think the box office on the first one would call for.  Tomorrow/Wednesday I might stay in, so there's that.  Thursday I work early, so I might work out for the first time in a long time, or I could see this band in south Minneapolis, or I could take a nap so long that it extends into the evening.  Friday I think I'm going to my first roller derby event in years.  And this weekend I need to use this birthday offer at a bar in south Minneapolis while also hoping to see ****e for a fuck.  I really could use a day to myself, but my libido is forcing me to give up time to things I may regret doing later.  Well, maybe not fucking ****e, but all the other stuff. ...

Where My Scatterbrained Stupid Self Pretty Much Fucked Everything Up

I want to think things went downhill as soon as Florida got upset by Iowa last/Sunday night in the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament.  I had them losing in the title Game.  With that pick gone to seed, I think my chances of winning either of my bracket pools has also gone to seed.

I got the notification from The Athletic while I was about to go into Target.  I had that 5% birthday discount I wanted to use, but I had been thinking all day on how to and even if I should use it.  I knew I wanted to buy baking soda and a new silicone scrubber to replace my dirty loofah (I should blog post about that loofah later).  But what else?  I need to maximize my discount by buying things I need to get, but I kept going back and forth about whether there are items I only wanted to get.  A circle lock, for when I rent out a second storage unit so I can finally really get down to organizing my stuff?  Well, they didn't have one.  Motor oil?  Nah -- I checked prices on my phone while I was in there; it's cheaper in a few other stores.  Should I get a lime?  I think I'll be out and about again next weekend, so it wouldn't make sense.  I swear there was something else I thought I needed to get, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember.  But I did remember the baking soda and scrubber, so that's what I got, and I was able to strike a whopping 60 cents off my total.  Happy Birthday to me!

And then I come home and, once I went into my bathroom, I realized there was something else I really wanted to get: Tea tree oil to put on the back of my head to get rid of the acne back there.  And I knew I was going to forget something when I went to Target.  I thought about writing a grocery list, but I didn't want to write it down, and I didn't want to bring a piece of paper with me.  Still, I knew there would be a good chance I would forget something, and still I didn't want to write anything down.  And so the tea tree oil I really want to buy I will have to buy without that 5% birthday discount.  I'm so ashamed I think I'll have to buy it at Wal-Mart, where I think it's probably a bit more expensive than if I bought it at Target, even without the 5%.  Can't walk back in to Target without hanging my head in shame.

---

I just ate a Krispy Kreme donut with milk.  The Krispy Kremes were free through its application because it was my birthday.  But I didn't want to eat them all at once.  In fact, my OCD compels me to eat them only every other day.  And it turns out I skipped a day.  Hopefully the last one lasts till Tuesday.

Doughnuts, of course, go with milk.  And this quart of milk I had bought, hmmm, some time ago.  I thought it was still good because the use by date stamped on top of the bottlecap reads today/Monday.  So, just like I have done, I poured some milk into a bowl into which I dunk the doughnut.  Once I finish with the doughnut, I slurp up the rest.  But this time, motherfucker, it tasted funny.  And then I smelled it.  Honestly, it smelled kind of funky for, like, a week before today, but it smelled even worse now.  Goddammit, I think I just drank spoiled milk.  I dumped the rest out of the bowl, then dumped the rest out of the bottle.  I thought it would still be good!  But come to think of it, when I opened it for the very first time (I don't remember how long ago), I saw that part of the cap was already pulled away from its rim.  And maybe I'm being a hypochondriac, but I am feeling really dizzy right now.  A little dissociative, too, like I'm not a part of this body that is typing this right now.

But the thing that kills me (literally?) more than wasting milk is the fact that I had, oh, three weeks to finish off a quart of 2% milk and I couldn't fucking do it.  It was just a quart!  Maybe my lactose intolerance gave me second thoughts.  But I had plans on using a lot of it in a smoothie I was going to make.  I have the fruit in the freezer.  But I was going to make it only after I work out, and I've been too damn busy to work out, so I haven't made the smoothie, so I haven't used the milk that way.  Reminds me that I also have greek yogurt inside my refrigerator.  It has a stamped sell-by date of April 16, but that fuckin' stamp did me no favors with the milk, so for all I know, the yogurt's already bad, too.  Might need to bring it with me to work this week.

---

You know what?  I thought I had a third thing I needed to blog post about illustrating how my dumb ass was fucking myself in another, but I forgot.  Oh, my self-destruction is so meta!

RIP, Fast Food Points

So once in a while I go through all my fast food apps, for which I have a lot.  I need to check on these from time to time.  Sometimes I do it just to look at any new foods or deals they may have.  Sometimes I do it as a way of climbing out of the rabbit hole I dive into while doomscrolling while not being able to pry my eyes away from my cellphone.  And sometimes I check the number of points I have on each application to make sure I haven't lost them.

A couple weeks ago (I think), I got an offer for free food from Chipotle.  Chipotle sends those offers from time to time.  This time around I got, I think, free guacamole.  I haven't had them in a while, so I ordered online and ate the quesadilla there; I went home to eat the chips and guac.  Later that night, I went to the Chipotle app to check that the points were there.  They were, but all the points I accumulated up to that point were gone.  At that point I had to look through all my other applications because I apparently didn't take that good of a look into them.  And I saw that I lost all my points at Popeyes, another fast food place I like.

Bummed, I am.  But I don't think there's anything I can do about them.  Obviously, if my parents scooted on out of here in the late summer/early fall like they usually do, I would have eaten at Chipotle and Popeyes before whatever six-month period or so that made my points expire, but they stuck around till after the New Year, and that is what probably killed off my points.

I have noted in the past (although I may not have discussed this on Wailing And Failing) that fast food chains have differing policies when it comes to when your points expire.  Some places say that you lose your points six months after you get those points.  Other places say that you lose all your points if there has been no activity (and that includes using points as well as accruing them) after a certain period.  I like the former scenario because if you do lapse, you only lose those points.  However, with the latter scenario, as long as you do something with that restaurant, you can keep points even if you earned them more than six months ago.  Of course, the best thing is for those points to never expire, but I don't think any of the applications I have are that generous.

While the permanent loss of what I spent so much to gain is awful, I have to admit there is a certain bit of ... freedom I feel.  Yes, circumstances forced me to fail, so to speak.  But that also means that I no longer feel obligated to go to Chipotle or Popeyes just to keep the points that I have ... er, had.  In fact, even though I like eating at both places, because I am back to zero with both of them, I don't know if I want to go back because I don't want to start getting points again with either place.  I've been scarred by how bad I feel losing them, you see.  Well, I did get points at Chipotle, but that was after I realized I lost all the points I gained before my order.  I might let those points die on the vine.

Maybe the lesson is, eat at every fast food restaurant you have an app for at least once every six months.

Hate Zynga Poker (Right Now)

The last two times I've played Zynga Poker I busted.  And both times I played in order to avoid relegation back down to Stage III.  That's probably an inevitability now.  And to think I used some coins to get up to the $2 billion minimum to play Omaha, which is the way I play now because of the easier format and the potential billions you can "make" in a short period of time.  I lost it all in a short period of time, that's what I did.  Hate this.

Fuck Fantasy Football

I know there's a Game tonight, but I have fucking crashed out in all three of my fantasy football leagues, and it's fucking demoralizing.

The one most important to me, the one I have money on, I lost last week.  It was the worst combination of my opponent overachieving and my team underachieving, and of fucking course it happens during the playoffs.  And this week my other two teams, including the one I'm commish in, fucking shat the bed.  Both of my opponents had Ashton Jeanty, who fucking went buckwild on my ass, unfortunately.  I have a ghost of a chance on one of them because I have Brock Purdy, but no, there's no hope.

Besides the league I'm commissioner in, I have not won once.  Why do I keep fucking playing?  Why do I keep fucking torturing myself with all this goddamn losing?

Just got on sort of a holy roll on Zynga Poker with someone, probably a bot, where, for the past, oh, 15 to 20 minutes of the half-hour I was playing (I have no idea how long I was playing; that's a sure sign of a gambling addiction), it was just me and him.  Usually, people (or bots) come in and take the other available spots, but nope, it was just this "guy" and me.

It's so addicting if you win big pots, like I did early, especially when there were other people besides this "dude" and me.  That hooks you into thinking you can win, and hooks you into pursuing that next winning fix, even though we're dealing with fake money here.  And then, as I really started losing "money" to this "person," I found it very difficult to pull away -- partly because I wanted to win, partly because I lost so much that I wanted to "get right" by winning, partly because the next hand came in immediately after the results of the previous hand because there weren't more "players" at the "table" to slow down play.  I had to leave by folding $100 million (in fake money) because I wanted to stop and I was losing all the money I came in with and then some.

When you get rolling, gambling, even fake online Omaha like I did, is intensely addicting.  Oy.

Found My Remote Control ... Now, Where's My Shirt?

So soon after my previous blog post I found my remote.  It was on my bed, underneath my blanket, at a spot where I didn't think it would be.  Maybe if I laid in bed with my remote control in my left hand I could see how it got there, but that's it.

Now, for the past two mornings, I've woken up with my shirt off.  Since Thanksgiving I've worn my thermalware for the first time all season.  Also, I started drinking NyQuil before going to bed, and thank Buddha, that works.  It's knockout juice for me that I need right now as my nose is still runny and I'm generating so much snot that I'm having coughing fits all day.  Finally, since Thanksgiving night, I've turned on my heater in the hope that I can heat up my body so much my nose will stop running.  (That logic makes sense to me; I think that's how this running nose finally stops every winter.)  So I am quickly under because of the NyQuil, and my bedroom is a furnace, so I am guessing that my body is at that point so hot that I have to take my shirt off.

Problem is, I don't remember ever doing that.  I'm not saying I don't remember taking off my shirt the previous two days, but ever taking off my shirt under those conditions ever.  I don't know if the NyQuil is making me do things differently as I get older.  But to be honest, I am going to do the same thing again tonight and the next night and every night until I am free of my running snot.

Where's My Remote Control?

I got home tonight/Saturday night and I can't find my remote.  I know I watched college football late, and I know I didn't turn on the TV yesterday/Saturday morning, so the remote should be where I left it, right at my dresser.  But it's not there, nor is it anywhere on the bed or on the floor.

It's killing me because now I can't turn on the television.  Well, yes, I can walk up to the TV set and turn it on, but why would I want to?  I want to lay on my bed and see the TV from there.  So I've been going without TV watching ever since I came home.  And I think I'll be like that until, or unless, I find my darn remote.

Not Working Tomorrow/Sunday, And It'll Be Weird

I am not working tomorrow/Sunday, even though I have worked for many, many seasons.  I was told on Monday that the production crew have their own people and therefore I was not needed.  The last time I hadn't worked a Game was during the pandemic.  If you take that as an exception, the last time before that was the last Game of some Year when the team sucked.  It may have been New Year's Day, and I decided to spend it at the Walker.

The person who broke the news to me emphasized that me not working was not a reflection of my work for them.  Assuming this crew does not come to town any other time this season, I am working the other Games, as planned.  I believe him, in all he said.  That said, I have to recognize that I am an at-will employer.  These people treat me well, and I am paid very well.  But it's not as if I have a contract with them.  They can pull the plug and no longer hire me for any reason, or for no reason.  It's the reality, and I am under no illusion of what could happen, at least theoretically.  Nonetheless, this news is a stark reminder of that reality, and I have to admit that I have caught myself on a couple occasions this week thinking about how my life would be affected if I could no longer work for these people.  It's my favorite job; losing it would be like losing a piece of me.

Checking In On How I'm Doing In Fantasy Football And ... Eesh

I was doing so, so good in fantasy football to start the year.  But then the goddamn bye weeks came and I have gone into sort of a tailspin.

I am part of three fantasy football leagues.  Ironically, I am doing the worst in the one I am commissioner for.  It is also the only one of the three where we auction, which is the format that is the most involved and, because I was the only one who fuckin' showed up for the auction, the league where I basically got to pick my own team.  And now, my own team sucks.

That's not as bad as the team in another league where I started out, like, 4-0.  I think I've lost five-of-six since then.  The absolute lowest of the low came this week, where I had three guys going in Sunday's late Games with a good chance of overcoming the deficit I had ... and I didn't.  What's worse is that I had on the bench Jayden Higgins, a Wide Receiver for The Houston Texans, who put up enough fantasy football points that, if I had put him in for either a WR or a player in one of the Flex Positions, I would have won.  That's the game of fantasy sports for you, but goddammit, I hate that.

This is the league I gamble in.  I went from cruising into the winners' bracket to fighting for my fucking fantasy football playoff life.  And that really sucks.

This Week Has Sucked/Is Going To Suck

Asked my co-worker yesterday/Sunday about my schedule.  I'm going into the lab weekly now, seems like, goddammit, and I do that tomorrow/Tuesday.

I realized last/Sunday night while exercising that today/Monday I have the MNUFC Playoff Match, and that starts at 8.

That means that I am getting home late from a soccer Match being played late, very late, on a school night, and then I have to wake up early for work the next day.

It's out of my control when I have to report early to work in the lab; it just happens it's the morning after a late soccer Match.  The soccer Match usually isn't played on a Monday night, let alone at fuckin' 8 at night, but it is, and it just so happens to be the night before I have to report early in the next morning.  This constellation of bad timing didn't have to happen.  It took a lot of bad breaks for this shitty situation to occur.  And yet it has.

I fucking hate everything right now.  I'm worried for Mother's surgery, my sister accused me of not flushing the toilet when I did, I didn't get to fuck my sex worker (I think I'll save that for another blog post), I'm scared I'm overworking my car, and most of all, pretty much every single Minnesota sports team got fucking embarrassed, from the Vikings Thursday through the Gopher football team on Saturday and the Gopher men's hockey team this weekend.  And Losses by the Wild (yeah, the Timberwolves won last/Sunday night, but they lost to The Bastard Minneapolis Lakers over the weekend), and I have been in a foul goddamn mood since Thursday and I will be at least until I get to rest tomorrow/Tuesday night.

Till then, everything fucking sucks.

I Should Try Getting Off Of Social Media

Well, ever since the Jynx lost in Game 2 on Tuesday I was dreading the worst.  And I knew that if I came across bad news, I would do so while scrolling through Twitter or Bluesky.  So I did my best to stay off of them.  I think I've blog posted before that the urge to look was strong, so strong that I think I'm addicted to it.  But, I did.

And you know what?  I didn't feel bad.  The feeling that I was missing out on something was still there, believe me.  But that subsided since I started my self-ban.  Moreover, I was able to concentrate more on watching TV.  I have complained about missing key plays (such as Goals in soccer) because I would always take even a short lull in play to pick up my phone and start looking.  Yesterday/Sunday, knowing I wanted to say away from all things Jynx, I just curled up in my bed and watched the NFL ... well, when I wasn't passed out and taking naps.  Those are good ways to note doomscroll, too.  But all day I went without checking social media, and I felt alright.

Alas, since I do The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey, at some point I had to learn about what happened.  I was going to wait till today/Monday to hear any montage from The Common Man Progrum to tell me.  When I reached for my phone to see how charged it was, a notification from The Athletic app told me what I had feared, indeed the worst-case scenario: Minnesota indeed lost Games 3 and 4 and were summarily eliminated from the WNBA Playoffs.  My full autopsy on this abortion of a season will go up on Tuesday, but suffice it to say, this is one of the all-time chokejobs in Minnesota sports history.

With that seal broken, I declared the self-ban broken, and I went back on Twitter and Bluesky again.  This time I knew full well that not only did I want to see a reason as to how the Jynx fucked up this championship run, I wanted to see tweets and skeets reflecting my hate of this failure of a team -- "Yeah, anonymous person whom I don't even know could be a Russian bot -- insult all of those worthless players!  You dumb motherfuckers fucking SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!"  And then I saw the litany of tweets and skeets about what Trump did and said, and all the ICE raids happening in the country, and all the rude and mean things Republicans said and did over the weekend ... and then I remember that whenever I go on social media, I get very upset and angry.  In fact, social media is engineered to get you upset and angry.  And then I remembered how I felt since Tuesday, when I just didn't go on social media.  Sure, the urge to see what I was missing out was there.  But I was a hell of a lot less upset and angry.  And now, come to think of it, being clued into what I'm missing out on isn't worth the rage that boils inside me whenever I scroll.

I liked how I felt when I wasn't constantly going through social media.  And maybe this will cost me being a more attuned sports fan and American citizen, but I don't know if I want to do it anymore.  Maybe these past few days of being clueless is actually beneficial to my soul ... and maybe I should stay off of it, permanently, for my health and mental well-being.

You know what sucks?  Being eliminated from a fantasy game because you forgot.  I entered two Eliminator fantasy games that my friend is running.  Eliminator games are games where you pick one NFL team to win every week in the regular season.  If that team loses, you're out.  The trick is that you can only pick a team once.

Very intriguing idea.  Whoever thought that up, and I think this was only this side of the millennium, needs to be in the Pro Football Hall Of Fame or something.  But if you don't put in a team every week, you are automatically eliminated.  And that's why I did, or didn't do, in the second Week of the NFL season.  I was busy and distracted, and I knew I had to do my ESPN Eliminator, and I did, but I forgot I signed up for my friend's other Eliminator game on Yahoo! Sports.  I was able to remember doing the ESPN Eliminator on my ESPN Fantasy app, but I forgot to do my Yahoo! Eliminator on my Yahoo! Sports Fantasy app.  And that is ironic also because I don't have anything going on fantasy-wise on ESPN, but all my fantasy football teams are on Yahoo! Sports.  So why didn't I just look through my fantasy teams and then go on and do the Eliminator?  Maybe because I forgot I had an Eliminator through Yahoo!  (sigh)

I used to do Eliminators with money, and I forgot to make my weekly pick, so I got eliminated in pools in which I sank money.  And that was just wasting money, so I stopped doing that.  Maybe I should just, you know, remember to do them?  Nah, I'll probably forget.

Don't Ever Be A Sports Fan

Ever since the Jynx choked Tuesday and lost home-court advantage, I have been in a bad mood.  Well, moreso than usual, and that includes the meddling, I-know-what's-best-for-you bullshit I've been dealing with from My Fucking Parents for the last goddamn month.  But I'm upset, and I shouldn't.  Why?  Because it's fucking sports.

Yes, I'm a fan.  But it's not as if these players know who the hell I am.  And I could easily ignore what's going on with the Lynx and live my life in peace.  Instead, I allow this to affect my attitude, my behavior, and my day.  If you step back and think, that is both reckless and stupid.

I have married that seething anger with a fear in anticipation for today.  Game 3 is tonight, and if the Jynx lose and go one Loss away from being eliminated in a season where they were far and away the best team (that we don't celebrate teams for being the best over the course of the regular season is purely an American thing; if this were any soccer league elsewhere in the world, there would be trophies raised and parades on the street for the Lynx already, but that's a blog post for another time) ... man, I will hate the man I will become.  And then I will hate myself further for allowing myself to have my life influenced by the results of a sports team.

These are the times when I curse myself for loving sports so much.  Because if and when my teams lose, the pain and anger that well up inside me -- which is often venerated as a characteristic of "a true fan" -- is something I can't shake for a long time.  You can say that it's worth it when they win a championship, but this is Minnesota -- we don't win championships here.  So it's all just pain and anger.  And I stepped into this realm, and I am too stubborn and/or stupid to step out of it.

I guess you're going to have to save me by winning, Lynx.  See how pathetic that sounds, asking a bunch of people who don't know you from Adam to win so I can feel better?  Don't ever be a sports fan.

The Break I Needed

Spent yesterday/Wednesday in the lab doing the packages.  And goddammit, I spent, including my morning break, a bit more than four hours and 15 minutes back there.  Swear to God, it used to be 2 1/2 hours max.  I have no idea why in the hell my past few trips in the lab have been so long and laborious.  But they have been, and so the massage I arranged between work and the MNUFC Match (they fucking lost to San Luis, for fuck's sake) was worth it, even if I ruined my ideal post-massage comedown by eating a Jucy Lucy and egg rolls at Allianz Field.

Anyway, I was back there for so long that when I got out, my shift was in its lunch break.  I thought with all my standing around, my body would be so tired that I would pass out immediately.  Didn't happen.  It seems I was too wired and achy to rest.  But once I got back from my lunch break to finally sit down and type, my body was shutting down.  I felt I needed sleep now, and forget any illogic about how I tried to get some shut-eye a scant half-hour ago.

But my afternoon break was coming up.  I needed about an hour, but at 1 I marched back out to my car, closed my eyes ... and I was woken up by my phone alarm, a dozen minutes later.  My dragging body suddenly felt alert, and I powered through the rest of the day with ease.

Naps are good, y'all.  Never, ever underestimate them.