Decisions....

I don't know what I'm supposed to do today.

And no, it's not a decision about what to wear under my new Big Ben jersey.

I don't know if I'm expected to work. I was, then I wasn't, then I was, then I wasn't. On my way out the door Friday, a coworker chirped, "See ya Sunday!"

I called my boss yesterday to find out, and he didn't call back. Now that it's Sunday...

Among my options are going to Aimee's annual SB party, which I've never been able to attend. I really want to go, since by her accounts they've been great spectacles in the past. One caveat: driving home. I am fearful of being among Pittsburgh drivers traveling after the game, whether we win or lose. Apparently in West Virginia, there is a tradition of burning couches after big games (what big games they have in West Virginny, I don't know), and that trend has apparently spread here. I envision myself dodging drunken drivers and flaming furniture in an effort to get my kid and me home safely.

My brother's house is much closer, and it would be the usual suspects.

Or, I could stay home with my dad, who will otherwise be home alone. He refuses to go anywhere to watch a game without his LaZBoy, and since that chair is a bitch to move, that means he spends game day at home.

Or I could get called in to work.

Or I could ignore my cell phone if it rings.

Or I could go experience a big defining, history-making moment with my colleagues who will record every nuance while eating great food and enjoying the camaraderie and networking during what is sure to be the most charged night my newsroom has ever had in its young existence.

Or I could ignore my cell phone if it rings.


I don't know what I'm supposed to do today.