I could not stand to watch the NBA Finals last night. I tried. I really did. But I was put off by the theatrics of the court.
For one thing - I've never really seen Shaq in action. He appeared to me to be very large and tank-like, a sloth, covering the ground slowly but surely in large, sweeping steps. He looked cartoonish next to his little scrambling teammates.
And for another - if I had to see one more large man get gently tapped by another player and then see the first player jump backwards, slide across the floor and hold his hands up like "Ewwwwwwww - he touched me! Owie!" I was gonna put my side table through the big screen.
So I went to bed and slept until 5:30 AM when I awoke due to absolutely nothing. You would think that by giving myself a full hour more than usual to get ready for work would end with me being able to stop, get breakfast and arrive at my office in plenty of time looking neat, perky and well-fed. Nope.
I took my time. Even did my toes and shaved my legs - ironed my pants, even. And I got to work, hungry and haggard - at 8:29 AM.
That still counts as early, right?