Night Owl Cards

Yesterday demonstrated perhaps the most concrete example of how little time I have to blog. If you were paying attention, for about three hours last night, I featured, for the first time, an incomplete post on Night Owl Cards. The post ended with about only 40 percent of it complete. Thank goodness it didn't end in mid-sentence, but if you were reading to the end, you probably knew something wasn't right. I had actually finished writing the entire post. But in the process of writing, my daughter signed me out of Blogger in order to do a school assignment and didn't alert me. While trying to edit and save the story, eat dinner, and get it all done before I returned to work, I didn't notice that the version I published was only the part that was written before I was logged out. And, so, because I was at work and way too busy to check the blog, a half-written post appeared and remained there until I could remove it. That looked bad because I was attempting to than...

This is not the first blog to call card collecting an addiction. That it is. That. It. Is. But sometimes you have to be slapped in the face with a few dud packs, as I was tonight upon ripping into my third Allen and Ginter blaster box in three days. Call it a box-a-day habit. One purchased Wednesday, one Thursday and one Friday. I bought the last one despite already blowing my weekly allowance -- the cash left over after feeding the Suburban Monster (bills, groceries, gas, dog). But I needed to get one of the last two boxes at Target, because the closest Wal-Mart to my home --apparently operating under the assumption that only kids buy cards -- removed the card display to put up back-to-school stock (enough frivolity, kids! How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?) The Wedneday and Thursday boxes were semi-productive, fueling my habit. The third box tonight was deflating. With eight ripped packs still on the floor, this is my booty, (excluding the mass quanti...