I realize just now that I'm an "Is there anything better?" guy.
I often ask the people around me if there's anything better than . . . whatever I'm doing or eating or watching at the time.
On this blog, I've asked if there's anything better than a Chipotle burrito, for instance.
I know I've asked friends if there's anything better than a peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwich.
I've asked if there's anything better than taking a nap with a dog squeezed between your side and the sofa's armrest.
Tonight, I ask if there's anything better than riding one's bike through a fall night to a local restaurant, eating a terrific sandwich (chicken, guacamole, beans) washed down by a good beer, and reading a novel. Is there anything better than returning home to plan what feels like a great English class for tomorrow? And is there anything better than watching playoff baseball?
I suppose the answer to any of these Is There Anything Betters is this: The only thing better would be having my wife (who's travelling for work) here with me.
Yeah, okay--groan. That's sappy. But I did write a book about her already, so what do you expect?