I don't want to talk about how I had to work until 9 p.m., and the internet on my new phone wasn't working so I couldn't check the score while irate parents argued with school district officials about a new building for their farm education program.
(Yes, we have that here. Doesn't every school?)
I don't want to talk about how elated I was when I got to the parking lot and one of the other folks leaving the meeting called a family member to get the score, and that score was tied.
I don't want to talk about how I got in bed and (because Jason opted to sleep on the couch and not keep me up with his inability to sleep) kept changing the channel back and forth because I was too nervous to just sit and watch the game already.
I don't want to talk about that last second, when I happened to be watching and it looked like we were going to win, and someone from The Other Team sunk a three-point shot just as the buzzer sounded to tie the game and send it into overtime.
(Especially since something eerily similar happened during a Grizzlies playoff game a couple years ago, involving a player from a state where everything is bigger, including players whose name just happens to rhyme with "Jerk.")
And I really, really don't want to talk about how I kept turning off the TV, only to lie in bed for a few more minutes and, unable to sleep turn it back on - just to see that they were talking to a coach, and it wasn't Coach Cal, and those guys wearing the championship caps didn't look thuggish enough to be from our team.
Like I said, I really don't want to talk about it.