Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Four
I don’t think I’ve slept in this late in years.
Three decaf pods left.
Sitting in the bleachers, in the sun—again. The perfect weather for a Saturday morning flag game.
Substitutions.
The leave time keeps getting earlier and earlier.
Sitting in traffic and staring at
Yes. It’s supposed to be fun. But all the other things weighing on my mind keep it from being so.
Rudolpho!
These college games sure do have a lot more fanfare than what I remember. Flashing lights, fire and fireworks.
10:15 p.m. in the Chick-fil-A drive-through. He says the prices are almost as bad as Gott’s.
Another night way past my bedtime. Monday will be rough.
