I left Buffalo Wild Wings early last night. I was out just after 5:30. I was upset because I learned my mother would be cooking ham for Christmas. Ham? Please. I am not a fan of ham. I do not like ham, with or without green eggs.

It left me very upset, and for no reason, I started blurting out stuff after failing at trivia. It was probably best I get out of there. I fell asleep for a little while, got back up, fell asleep, got up. It was a restless night.

Maybe I needed to get out of there early. I spent four hours there Monday, then over eight Tuesday, and I had been there for five hours yesterday. Yep, it was probably time to take a break. Back today.

People have been bitching about the cold this week. Now there is a chance of severe thunderstorms Sunday. What the hell? Thunderstorms? On Christmas? What has Eastern been moved up? That’s what you expect Easter. Not Christmas. That’s what you get for warm weather. I’m not saying 15 below is optimal. But I’d rather 15 below than 50 above. That’s the risk you run with warm weather.

In 1973, New Orleans received five inches of rain on Christmas. I wasn’t born yet, but my parents were there. They don’t remember. Hope I never see that.