Up late. Can’t sleep.
Get well soon Robert. We’re all pulling for ya.
On April 26th, 2012 you may hear a horrific, effeminate squeal ring out over the busy streets of Northern Virginia. This sound will be me shrieking with delight and flailing flamboyantly in front of my television as the Redskins draft one Robert Griffin the third. Tears will be shed, man crushes will be solidified, respect from my loved ones will reach an all time low. The savior of Redskins football is only a draft pick away friends. Fingers crossed…
Mondays after a Redskins loss stink. It’s Halloween, I took my son trick or treating, I ate candy… I should be happy as hell. I’m not. I’m dead inside. My very soul has festered and withered away. The sun is less bright, food doesn’t taste as good, jokes are less funny. This sucks.
Sunday I watched a submissive Redskins team roll over and help Buffalo find the hole. What an embarassment. I feel like an enabler to an addict who constantly promises to get it together. I have become a codependent… Let’s bow our heads and recite the serenity prayer.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the team I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
One day at a time Skins fans… One day at a time.