10. My what-used-to-be-known-as-favorite sushi restaurant (note: said restaurant touts televisions) has morphed from a relaxing Asian dining experience into a veritable stadium of tense, angry sports viewers. Isn't Asian dining supposed to be a relaxing experience? You know, the whole sitting on the floor thing?
9. The local neighborhood sports bar... with $2 mimosas mind you... that has been pleasantly uninhabited over the course of the last few months, no longer has a solitary bar seat for me to cheaply imbibe in.
8. Finishing off on #9, if I do happen to get "lucky" enough to locate a seat, I inevitably get funneled and/or towered beer spilled on my non-football-team weekend shirt. #laundry
7. Monday morning "water-cooler convo" at the office morphs tragically from "where were you this weekend" or "nice tan" to "who did you cut from fantasy draft" just like that. My personal fantasy is that all these conversations could just get together and go somewhere else.... preferably far far away.
6. Addendum to #7: I do not have pleasant feelings towards water-cooler convo to begin with. And football water-cooler convo is just that much more unneeded in my life.
5. Girls wearing jerseys down the street as if it is totally normal. Cute jeans. Like the bag. But really, a little boy's jersey? That's your Sunday get-up? Where's Joan Rivers when you really need her.
4. The fact that actual news outlets allocate any of their time to updating football-loving America on the latest NFL news. Really, CBS This Morning (read: Gayle) and GMA trust me when I say that I tuned in within my very limited TV window NOT to watch NFL scores. Anything real happening out there? Bueller? K thanks.
3. Male. Attention. Spans...
2. ... Disappear. Just kiss them goodbye and wish them well.
1. And lastly, perhaps most offensive of all, the unbelievably annoying ability of the football clock to neverrrrrrrrr everrrrrr move. What's that you say, 10 minutes remaining? Funny that 10 minutes have gone by and the clock is still exactly where it was 10 minutes ago. Football time in male land is equivalent to the commonly known "I'll be ready in 5" in female land. We all know that time allotment is nowhere remotely CLOSE to its purported quantitative value. 10 supposed minutes equals at a minimum 30 more minutes of torture. In conclusion, NFL season, you pain, inconvenience, annoy and tease me.
Now in the words of Miranda Priestly, that will be all. Before I close, though, I would like to put forth the following. Victor Cruz can do no wrong. Go Giants!! #reliefinaction