While I’m not trying not to prematurely shoot myself in the foot (have you noticed that I use a lot of idioms,) I can’t help but be skeptical about tomorrow. It must be my addiction to over analyzing things that has me creating different scenarios about this weekend with Chicago. I prepared myself for all of the probable “events” that may occur by plucking, tucking, pressing and painting myself as much as humanly possibly. I’ve been primped so much this week, its ridiculous.
Lighting doesn’t strike the same place twice right (there I go again with these cliches.) Let’s hope the fact that Texas hitting me up this morning isn’t a sign that it will. Texas wants to come out here and see me in July. Yeah, that will happen when pigs fly. (I had to end with one last cliche.)
*And no, swine flu does not count as pigs flying.*