The morning after . . .

If the ObamaNation really wants to unite people in a common purpose, I would suggest one of two sollutions to all the butt-dragging that's going on across the country today:

(1) Move the SuperBowl to SATURDAY! That way, if it goes late on the east coast, we still have a whole day afterwards to recover and be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed little workers on Monday.

or

(2) Declare the Monday following SuperBowl a holiday.

Giants win!

Okay, I suppose I could have typed that headline without the exclamation mark.

Not because I care to spare the already wounded pride of ye Patriot fans out there. You could use some ego deflation.

Going into this year's Super Bowl, I really did not give a tinker's dam who won.

But, then I was reminded . . . frequently . . . that a New England win would knock the 1972 Dolphins from the pinnacle of pro football greatness.

And, we just can't have that.

18-1 is still second best to 17-0, especially when one of those 17 came with a Super Bowl ring.

My couch is evil incarnate

That big, soft, warm, comfy sectional must have a butt-magnet in it somewhere. I cannot seem to walk past it today, despite the lengthy weekend to-do list.

On a chilly day like this, there is just nothing better than grabbing one of Mom's old quilts and curling up on the sofa.

I mean, we've got all the political talk shows hashing and re-hashing yesterday's primary and caucus results.

Then, those wicked folks at Blockbuster mailed me two DVD's ("Disturbia" and "Surf's up").

And, to top it all off, we had two really good football games to watch. (Not too thrilled with the results, though. Was hoping for a Packers-Chargers super bowl, but that's not going to happen . . .)

Oh, well, I guess there are worse things to contend with than a comfy couch . . . like, maybe, that to-do list!