Stream of Consciousness: January 22, 2012

I love that on the weekends, T makes the bed. Without ever being asked. And he does it just the way I like it. (Even though I suspect he thinks I am a little ridiculous for caring so much.)

I really like the Aveeno shave gel I switched to recently. But it smells *exactly* like these date-filled cookies with a cherry on top that my Gram used to make. I will never not find that weird.

The Patriots played for the AFC Championship today. The game was a classic nail-biter, one they probably won thanks to a bit of bad luck for the Ravens kicker missing a field goal that would have tied it and sent the game to overtime. After that kind of intensity, the last thing I wanted--even less than I wanted it before--was to have a replay of the Super Bowl from the 2007-2008 season. But the Giants and 49ers went to overtime in their game, and the Giants kicker did not pull the ball wide, setting up a Super Bowl rematch I could have lived without. I'll probably need to self-medicate to get through the Super Bowl in two weeks.

On a happier note, pitchers and catchers will be reporting to Fort Myers in 28 days. I can almost smell the hot dogs and Cracker Jack now!

It's going to be in the 80s all week. I know I live in Florida, but for Pete's sake. Could I at least have the pleasure of some low 70s and call it Winter? Because 80? Is *not* Winter.
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