Excuse Me While I Pause Not To Eat

Cheryl, you are singularly making me fat. That recipe looks so delicious, and I’m saving it for when I can order a crane to lift my butt out of my office chair and wander into the kitchen to cook something.

In the mean time, I’m getting my aerobic exercise by following my beloved Penn State Nittany Lions basketball team play their doodles out in the NIT Championship. Their games are never easy (I’m going with the theory that they enjoy drama), but they almost always give me heart attacks, which is good for my metabolic rate.

The point being, am I the ONLY sports lover in the entire universe of bookaholics?

In every one of my various writer loops I bring up sports and even the responses appear to have totally unconscious looks on their replies.

Come on! I cannot be alone. There have to be some authors and readers out there who love sports at least a little.

I live and breathe Penn State sports, good and bad. Our basketball team won tonight, so I’m happy. If they’d lost, I’d probably rummage through my medicine cabinet and talk about something like suicide (THAT is a joke).

I’m just really amazed at people who don’t love sports (or animals, or cooking, or fun gadgets or books…but mostly sports).

Am I really alone in this? Every once in a while I find a soul mate who loves to talk smack with me — my Ohio State and USC friends, for example — but for the most part, blank stares.

It’s just unfathomable to me. But while I’m sitting and watching Penn State’s next game and eating Cheryl’s food (I wish she’d deliver so I wouldn’t actually have to cook it), I’ll sigh and hope you all are reading instead.

Best,

Trish