Without getting too much into the additional personal stuff (I'm a strong proponent of the Midwestern "suck it up and quit whining" school of emotional management), let's just say that today has been a generally bad day for me. My morning drive in wasn't at all improved by the pretty lame pick for the Supreme Court, and I was pretty distracted at work. My mom told me how my brother backed one of their cars into the other, and how my parents' mattress is now lost on the highway somewhere between Wisconsin Rapids and Minocqua.

The Packers were on Monday Night Football tonight. I intended to find a television at work to watch it on (while working on my laptop), but, come game time, I couldn't find one. I resigned myself to keep the little gametracker window up on my screen, and watched as the score fell to 7-23 at halftime. I closed the window.

I checked in later to see if the game had ended and was delighted to see the score had closed to 29-32 and the Packers with the ball with two minutes remaining.

This was my chance to see vintage Favre. I tore downstairs to try again to find a television, with no luck. I pinged three or four people on my buddy list, trying to find somebody to just hold a cell phone up to a radio or television.

Andy was the only one that responded. He had stopped watching the game when I had. He went to turn on the TV just as my gametracker updated:

Turnover on Downs. Carolina wins, Packers at 0-4 for the first time since 1988.

In 1988, I was six. First grade. If memory serves me correctly, this was the first year I ever attended a Packer game.

Today was a bad day.

After the game, Justin got back to his computer and responded to my instant message from before. I explained to him my story. To cheer me up, he sent me this:

I Love Egg

Thanks. Seriously.