The past four days have been quintessentially perfect fall days. Brilliant blue skies. No clouds. A light breeze. It feels crisp outside. Like the first time you crack open a brand-new book. There's something special about it. So cheering. Like maybe there's something right with the world. I have to open my moonroof and roll down the windows on my commute home. The perfect weather for a bowl of chili, a beer and a good game of football. Yesterday I got two out of three. My beloved team is breaking my heart. This is not unusual. I grew up during the era of amazing Nebraska football and it was so difficult to watch them play under Solich and Callahan while I was in school there. But I've stood by them through all of that. And I continue to stand by them; I am a husker through and through. But that doesn't mean I like them very much right now. They've let me down yet again. Whenever I start to think, "Hey we're good again!" They have a game like yesterday. And I want to shake them. And I ask myself why do I care? Why do I let myself care so much? Why can't I stop watching and caring about college football? Possibly for the same reason I can't completely right off my attempts to find a boyfriend. Despite the mountain of evidence from my past experiences that boys are unreliable and just cause trouble, I continue to search for "the one." In the past few months, my single friends have been increasingly getting boyfriends and it's making me feel more and more like a crazy old spinster. Except that I don't even have a cat (Allergic!) or dog for companionship.
In the meantime, I'm hoping for more beautiful fall days; I've had enough rain to last me for quite awhile.
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