The End (of Quiet Saturdays) is Nigh

In just a few short hours, the peaceful bliss1 that Saturdays have given me since January will end. In its place, college football will possess certain people I love2 with a sense of loyalty, competitiveness, and anger. And the quiet will be replaced with cussing and screams of joy, which sometimes take place outside of the house as well as in it.3 

Woe unto our neighbors. 

When they talked earlier, Nana asked mom if she was prepared for it to start back. Can we ever be fully prepared for the enthusiasm my father has for the Auburn Tigers? You can’t really prepare for it. It’s one of those times where we only intervene if we think he’s so excited he’ll stroke out.45

Woe unto his blood pressure. 

Games do usually give me a chance to read, listen to music, or cook. Anything to get away from the screaming. I may use the game time as a way to work in my room. Well, except for when I am working on chili for dinner. 

Woe unto the kitchen & my bedroom. 

And I will also cautiously keep up with the Alabama game because of reasons. I can’t point this out because of reasons, and because my dad would launch into his spiel of “Alabama is evil. Nick Saban is evil.” It’s a very long spiel, depending on his mood. If Auburn does well, the mood will be more on the positive end. So, if he happens to launch into his Crimson Tirade after an Auburn win, it will be a lot better for all involved. 

Woe unto spiel recipients. 

And now the pain medicine and Flexeril are kicking my brain’s ass, if it has one. This probably started out sounding less spacey than how it is going to end. Sentences are starting to make a sense that is not. 

Woe unto grammar. 

Okay, I need to get to bed & sleep some. Otherwise, I’d have to say:

Woe unto me. 

Teehee. I said it anyway. Teehee? Do I even say that? Apparently I just did. Yeah, I need to sleep off this squiggly brain feeling. 

War Eagle.6

  1. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. 

  2. My father. 

  3. No, seriously, he will walk out the front door and scream at the neighborhood–and sometimes the neighbors–out of anger and joy. Usually he saves the joy for them. 

  4. Really. 

  5. He’s like me–or I’m like him–in that his blood pressure is typically on the lower side of the normal blood pressure range. But things that get him worked up cause it to go to the bad side. Like me. Or you know. 

  6. And, you know…reasons. 

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Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.

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