I’m a happily married psychologist in sunny Florida. I treat many different disorders and oversee a large team of mental health professionals, so one might say I have seen it all. That is, until Sundays during football season.
Setting The Lineups
Typically, the day starts off quiet at home. My husband disappears in the mid-morning, replaced by the gentle clicking sounds of his keyboard emanating from his office. He is busy making last-minute changes to his line-up or conferring with his roto-cronies. I hold my tongue, but I know later on, I will hear, “Why did I do that?” Classic roto regret.
NFL Red Zone Channel
By now, my husband is locked in and mumbling something about something. It’s like being in a country where I don’t speak the language or even own a passport. He situates himself on the couch where he will remain for the next seven hours. I can hear the Red Zone channel countdown music as the tension starts to build.
Watching Others Talk About It All
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t always hit the town during these hours. Sometimes, I will pop in for the sheer entertainment of it all. Watching him watch other people talk about the games, then talking to those people who are talking about the games and thinking they are then talking back to him when, in fact, they are just people on the TV screen, is something I have come to expect on a weekly basis.
So Much Going On At Once
My husband is yelling profanities at the screen while I decide which color combinations I prefer. I know the basics, but the screen jumps from game to game, like my own private Groundhog’s Day. Btw, I like the Navy blue and lime green.
