Lately I've been wandering about the house in a state of disoriented malaise. OK, so that's not really anything out of the ordinary. But I've also been unable to go to sleep before 2 AM on weeknights. My body is rebelling. It stays up, expecting to see volleyball, or platform diving, or Michael Phelps' Mom. But instead all that's on are Will & Grace reruns or the Steve Wilkos Show. I like Steve, but that only lasts an hour. Then what.
I'm having withdrawals. And I think a huge part of the problem is the lack of anything decent on TV right now. The Democratic National Convention is OK, but it doesn't quench my gold medal thirst. Maybe if Hillary could have done a front handspring with full twist and stuck the landing. Or maybe if they invited Bela Karolyi to be a guest analyst. How sad is it that I know how to spell Karolyi without even looking it up anymore.
I've been having a recurring nightmare of a female gymnast who falls during her vault landing, but still receives perfect 10's. (Yes, I know they don't give 10's anymore, but it's a dream, go with it.) Each time, I wake up in a cold sweat calling out, "Bela!!!"
I miss the secure feeling of knowing that some Olympic event is on NBC, CNBC, MSNBC, or USA no matter what time of day or night it is. I miss cheering for the Americans, and sometimes cute German and Australian girls. (This means you Britta Steffen.) I even miss Jim Lampley's stoic, monotone delivery.
I've tried everything I know to get my fix. I searched for that hokey Olympic theme music (BUM BUM ba bum bum bum bum) on iTunes, sent Hope Solo a friend request on MySpace, and I'm seriously considering giving myself a Dalhausser. I even tried showering off each time I use the restroom just to be like the divers. Didn't help.
How bad has it gotten? Last night, I turned over to Jimmy Kimmel to see if he had any Olympians on.
Clearly, these are desperate times. Thankfully, he didn't but Letterman did. Bryan Clay, the decathlon gold medalist, was on the Late Show. I watched him throw shot puts and javelins at a cab. Clay, not Letterman.
Tonight, Misty May and Kerri are on. Thank goodness, too. Google images just wasn't doing it for me anymore. Anyway, that should tide me over until tomorrow. And then, who knows. With an addiction like this, all I can do is take it one day, one hour, one Logan Tom-less moment at a time.
At least until college football starts Saturday.
"I guess I thought you'd be here forever. Another illusion I chose to create. You don't know what you got until it's gone. And I found out a little too late..."