Can't Bear it

Its monday afternoon, almost one o'clock. I've just got out of bed after sleeping for 12 hours for no other reason than nothing seemed worth getting up. I have what they(and by they I mean me) call a Bears hangover. With the exception of one person and you know who you are, I don't expect any of you cuzzins to know how I feel or to empathize with me for that matter. I am depressed because my beloved Chicago Bears have lost in playoffs. They have lost and my immediate future does not seem so rosy any more.

My fruit loops tasted sour this morning, my kind bud smelled of ditch weed, and I had an overwhelming desire to watch Titanic in the dark and cry.

I wore my Payton jersey yesterday, I kissed my lucky arrowhead, made my wife kiss my lucky arrowhead, touched ever ticket stub I had from games they won, put my Bears beads on my dog(I got those at a game they won this season), I even made guests I had invited sit in different seats just in case they were being unlucky. Some of this nonsense worked briefly, but in the end the Bears did not prevail.

Now I came to this conclusion while I was pooping fire from the jalapeno poppers I made: I have TOO much invested in sports, from an emotional standpoint that is. I was ready to denounce da Bears, the Cubs, the Buffs for life in search of something more meaningful, more concrete.

And then I read High Priorities by Bubb Rubb and I gotta say it changed my whole outlook. After reading it I found that I need to learn to enjoy the stuggles, that I need to grow for myself. So I'm going to swallow this loss like the dirty, poo-stuffed cyanide pill that it was and say "HEY! I can get through this day with a lot of pot and Adam Sandler movies. And Yeah, the Bears lost, but NEXT year they will be unstoppable and maybe the Cubs won't suck as much as I think they will." Rubb says, "Always question what matters most to you in life, and live accordingly." And you know what? The Bears matter to me, they matter ALOT man and for one brief moment there on the pooper, I almost forgot. Almost.

I owe you one Rubb