I woke up alive, which is always good.

I remembered that Clemson played yesterday but I had no idea what the score was. Clemson 70, Central Michigan 14. That’s the most points I can remember Clemson scoring since the year they won the national championship.

I had lunch with my sister, which was good, but it was at a restaurant with very slow service and the food came out cold, which was bad, but at least I know never to go there again, which is good.

I bought two wide soup bowls and a paperback copy of Ulysses, which was good. I mean the buying part, not the book. I haven’t finished the book yet.

I had two games scheduled for today. I decided that I felt like scoring five goals. It doesn’t seem that you can decide to feel a certain way, but I believe you can. And I believe you’d better do so in the case of athletic competition, or academic assessment, or in plently of other areas of performance.

We won the first game 8-0, I scored the first (and therefore game-winning) goal, and scored a left-footed volley near the end of the game. I played the last five minutes in goal—the first time I’ve played there in any sort of even remotely official game—and made a totally unnecessary save. It was awesome. We won the second game 4-1. We were tied at one, and then I scored a hat trick. Five goals and the game-winners in both games, which was good.

The cutest of my female teammates got a strawberry on her rear end from a slide tackle last week. Evidently it’s healing. That was good.

Then I got in the car to drive home, and the first words over the radio were “Chicago Bears 19, Philadelphia Eagles 16.” All four of my teams won this weekend. That was good.

Good night.