A fast train rolling down a mountain

It’s out-of-control, my friends. My NCAA bracketitis, that is.

See, I got invited to at least 3 bracket pools and made one of my own on Facebook. (With a creepy picture of Coach K. Just for you, Mindy. I thought about slapping up Christian Laettner again, but since you UK fans are still whining about that and it made you a bit huffy last year, I refrained.)

Anyway, I digress. I have 4 brackets on which I’ve made my picks. And none of them are the same. I just want to beat all the guys here at work, so that I can have bragging rights. But I can’t remember which bracket that is . . .

I may lose my mind before the Big Dance even gets started. And my team isn’t even in the field of 64. (But, really, what’s new about that?)

So, I hope my sanity lasts as I juggle all my brackets. So don’t ask me how my bracket is faring. You’re going to have to be more specific.

Deal with it. It’s part of being my friend. This is why you love me. (And you know you do!)