As I write this, it's Sunday night, it's cold, I'm tired, and I'm already thinking about bed. The TV is on, and the commercials are driving me nuts. Philadelphia Cream Cheese slathered on a toasted bagel, when we have neither Philly nor bagels in the house. Close-ups of a big greasy burger with crispy fries from a restaurant on the far side of Tulsa. Fresh blueberries. Barbecued ribs with a side of pickles and onions. Drool . . . sigh . . .
The ads are definitely working . . . but they're making my dinner salad look pretty sad in comparison. It's just not fair.