God, I hate Mondays. I hate Mondays so much that they still make Sunday a terrible day as well, doubly so without football, and despite the fact that I don’t have loads of homework to do anymore on Sunday night at this stage in my life. Really, you have to truly hate a day so fully that it ruins an entire other day for you. I don’t even know if I’m that upset about Mondays, now that I think about, because that’s really impressive. I’m not sure if I can pinpoint another day, or event, or even person that I dislike so much that it utterly and completely brings something akin to it to a depressing crawl. And that’s what Sundays are like; a slow crawl into this dreaded morning. The day just drags on with the clock continually ticking away until you resign yourself to laying down in your bed even though you aren’t tired, awaiting your fate that is Monday morning. When football season is around, it’s actually not so bad. You wake up, and especially if you are in the Eastern or Central time zones, you essentially get football from the moment you roll your fat ass out of bed until the instant you pass out with your hand in your pants after the Sunday Night Game’s conclusion. And football even makes Monday more bearable, because you get to look forward to Monday Night, where one more game awaits you. Ok, not so bad, right? Sure, until February hits, and then you have to start paying attention to your family and friends again. You’re forced to call your parents for that weekly check in your could avoid all football season because you were wasted on Sundays. You have to watch a Lifetime movie with your female companion (or male companion, who knows!) that you could always get out of because you could always use the “but the team is on!” excuse. Maybe you’ll even end up going to a play or something. You can try to trick your mind into watching another sport, like basketball or hockey or even baseball, but they are all either terribly depressing to watch mid afternoon or completely disengaging (I’m looking at you, baseball) and only serve the function of background noise while you masturbate to a Sears catalogue.
So what are you to do? Well, it’s simple actually. Remove yourself from the sports world temporarily and start building up brownie points for next football season. If you keep in mind that the only thing that matters is being able to be a slovenly, gluttonous American that other people who do not follow sports in your life most likely won’t appreciate, then you need to start building up those brownie points pronto. Then, when Sunday morning rolls along and you’ve suffered through innumerous walks on splendid afternoons in the spring, shopping excursions to Herberger’s or Macy’s in the early summer, and fruity cocktails on scenic outdoor porches during the summer, you’ll be able to sit back guilt free and use the old “team is on” excuse and waster your Sundays away. If you’ve played your cards right, you’ll even find someone who will gladly refill your coffee during the pregame shows. And when a Sunday is as glorious as this, it makes that dreaded Monday all the more tolerable. Truly worth it, my friends.
Or, in the meantime, you could spend 10-20 hours a week game planning for GLB, but I’m not personally that crazy.
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GLB: The Zone 
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