Yesterday was a Friday Night Lights marathon; I finished off the season by watching the final ten episodes. The team responsible for this program crams so much into each episode, and does an amazing job of making it a show not simply about high school football, but also about life in small-town middle America. I'm very glad NBC decided to bring this show back for another season. My next goal is to actually start watching 24, the first season of which I purchased...eight months ago. Speaking of television, I need to get back on track with both The Colbert Report and Chelsea Lately, as my DVR recording and viewing dropped to zero last week.
I went to Taco Bell to purchase dinner last night, and when I opened the bag and pulled out the first taco, it had sour cream in it! I've been eating the soft tacos for many years, and have never gotten sour cream in them. Since it was only three dollars and eighty-four cents, I chose not to drive back there and fight over it. I may have to swear off the Bell if this is to be the new standard. That, or tell the Team Member taking my order not to put sour cream in the tacos. After all, this isn't any different from the other fast food establishments, where I have to specify to hold the mayo (Wendy's) or mustard (McDonald's, Burger King) as the case may be.
Our major job that was supposed to go down this week has been pushed off at least two weeks, due to irreconcilable differences between the shipyard and the contractor who was to do the work. Of course, I don't think for a minute that this will lighten our burden; you can always count on the Submersible Death Trap to find new and creative ways to put the screws to its crew.
Mets: six games up, magic number to win the East is 16.
Giants: begin the post-Barber era in Dallas tonight; we'll now learn whether Eli (and for that matter, Coughlin) can really get it done.
Thirty-two days until leave begins. 11 October cannot come soon enough...