Welcome to 2003.

I have spent the better part of 36 hours trying to decide between suicide and homicide. Then merely veering between sheer despair and tentative hopefulness.

I feel like my dog died after running away with my girlfriend.

If it weren’t for the cosmic importance of this fight, I’d shrug and say, “Oh well, they are the Phillies.” Not this time.

Seriously, the one time in all of recorded human history when the entire family of man was cheering for the Philadelphia Phillies and they blew it. Way to go guys. You couldn’t even postpone failure for seven friggin minutes so it didn’t happen on my Dad’s birthday and the one-year anniversary of the Day the United States Died?

God’s intentions are always suspect. In this case, I suspect they are entirely focused on making 2009 the shittiest year in a long goddamn time. Perhaps it’s an issue of the “3”s. 2003 was a good and bad year. 2006 was a manifestly shitty year. 2009 has pretty much got them all beat – not for the pain of individual instances of despair – but for the horrendous summation of all the bad shit that’s gone down.

So prepare for the long, white season. Warmth and Light and Happiness have never seemed further away.

Except when considering this.

Awright, I’ll say it: Go Phils!

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