Anyway, we are apparently done with the last remnants of summer and are now into the early stages of winter. The temperatures have dropped from the 70s into the low 50s, and of course it's all grey and overcast to go along with the barely-there rain. I ache in strange places from all the unaccustomed bending over and box lifting, and being short on sleep doesn't help either. I'm so looking forward to just going home and collapsing.
The Northern Alliance boys are going to be groupblogging the debate tonight down at the Hilton, but if I were going to go out for anything it would be to see the Astros whip on the Cardinals. Speaking of whippings, the damnYankees beat Curt Schilling like a rented mule last night, lighting him up for six runs in less than five innings before Terry Francona came to his senses and pulled him for Aerodynamic Curtis Leskanic. Mussina was on his game last night and the Yanks were leading 6-0 at that point, so I turned the radio to the classical station and tried to think happy thoughts while picking up books and CDs.