Weekend

Yes, I'm on a diet.

Friday means nothing in the boarding school world, as I am currently between classes.  Afterwards, I will go coach for three hours in a drafty auditorium (seriously, Unnamed Other School, get a gym).  Then it's home to a nice glass of what my wife informs me is a slew of empty calories known as bourbon.  Wake on Sunday, read in church, sit in a duty office for eight hours, prep for Monday classes.  Somehow I have to slip in the Falcons game.  Weekends famously last from about dinner time on Saturday to lunch on Sunday.

Lunch... The Most Radiant and Scrumptious Wife has decided that she needs to go on the South Beach diet. (Hence the crack about the poor nutritional value of two fingers of Russell's Reserve.)  She cannot eat grains or fruit (not to mention sugars).  How awful.

We have a very talented chef and dining service here.  It has made a wonderful difference in the quality life here, but it has also had a deleterious effect on everyone's waistline.  I have elected simply to go with portion control and more exercise, but as you can tell from the first paragraph, it's tough to find the hour or so to workout.  There is a lot that's healthy about this lifestyle, but during the year it's a real grind.

Tonight I will not be watching the GOP debate, but I am very hopeful that Gingrich goes full Newt-lear meltdown on Mittens.  I think Romney's decision not to release his tax returns is a GREAT line of attack, because it will allow Newt to paint lurid, factually challenged pictures of what might be in there.  Patrimony payments to underaged crack addicts?  Tithing to the Westboro Baptist Church?  Contributions to Planned Parenthood?

I can't bring myself to sit through it, but I look forward to the post-game highlights.