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2002-01-20 | 7:04 p.m.

My emotions are all over the map today. I was in the basement (dark, damp) folding laundry earlier and I got to thinking about how the laundry is never done, about the tension between me and Duff over the criminally unfinished housework that never resolves, how this was also a negative factor in my previous long-term relationship, how neat my father was and how much it aggravated him that I didn't pick up after myself, how my children don't pick up after themselves, how I probably chose the wrong life path, and should instead have ended up living alone in an efficiency apartment, working as an assistant editor somewhere, reading the personals, going to matinees, buying up Fire King on eBay and taking elaborate staged portraits of my dog a la William Wegman. And, importantly, doing laundry when I ran out of things to wear----the way it should be done. A wave of despondency washed over me and I flopped over the dryer and cried into the stacks of folded clothes. Then I got over myself and came upstairs and clipped coupons. When I came across a contest offering a grand prize trip to the Super Bowl and a chance to meet Emeril Lagasse, I entered it. Then I found another one and entered that one, too. Then I found an entry blank for a chance to win a flat-screen TV and filled it out.

Criminy asked me what I was doing and I told her. She said, "I don't think we'll win." I said, "You can't win if you don't play."

I can't help but think that everything will be better in the spring. January is the cruelest month to me.

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