Thank you, divine being. Thank you for the gifts you have bestowed upon me, the poorest of your daughters. Thank you for allowing me enjoyment, regardless of the realities I suffer under. Thank you for your generosity, for letting me survive the summer. Hell, I'll even thank you for my cats.
There have been times when I doubted your existence. There have been days when I stared up into the broad expanses of the heavens and wondered if you were the greatest scam of all times. I even had that nightmare when I was a kid--you know the one, where I thought every other living creature was actually a robot and I was the last of the species? I'm not thanking you for that one -- it was too traumatic.
Just this time last week, everything looked bleak. I was trapped in a hell of television's making, forced to watch baseball highlights and steroid test results from the Tour de France on ESPN. I thought my personal purgatory would never end; it seemed to stretch before me like the yawning chasm of Dante's infernal pit.
But now, now I am redeemed! Joy has reentered my life! Every day dawns with new hope, new dreams, and new excitement! I don't feel like myself; the depression is gone. And at last I realized that you have brought me to this state. You, in your mercy, have granted me a reprieve! And I am grateful, groveling almost on hands and knees with tears of joy in my eyes. I recognize that my reprieve at the moment is merely play; practice, almost, and not the real thing. But just the appearance of it has brought me a reason to continue living -- because I know that you will relent and reward me when it is time.
Which actually, if you think about it, is September 2.
HOORAY! FOOTBALL IS BACK!