God give me the strength to get through today.

Today is the dreaded day. You look on the calendar, and think to yourself at the time, "Just what in THE hell am I supposed to do then?" It seems so unfair, that we have to endure this week from hell. Yea, I should do some yard work. Or clean the garage. Or paint the downstairs. Or go grocery shopping. Or go fly a kite. All tantalizing options no doubt, and I will probably try and do some combination of all that, get that last round of golf in with Mrs. Guitarman, and still go to bed knowing the awful, awful truth: it's the Bears bye week.

If you feel my pain, then you are a die-hard like me. Blue and orange to the core. I still can't fathom that people are actually planning their day, doing stuff, living a normal life, all without sitting in front of their TV for 3 hours on a beautiful fall day. Sure the Cubs just ended their magical run, the defending Stanley Cup Champion Blackhawks have begun their title defense, even the Bulls have a subplot, with DRose coming to the court now looking like the Phantom of the Opera. And my Bears? Stumbling out of the gate with a new coaching staff, and, well hell, new everything, they managed a couple of miraculous wins. But here I sit, with us at 2-4, and all I can think about is that I can't wait for next Sunday at noon.

It is a sickness I know, and there is no cure. It's not like I want to be cured either. There is a little man inside me at all times, screaming at me. He is the eternal optimist, not me. He is the one that rips the sanity from the front of my mind and wipes his ass with it, not me. He is the one that gulps down the grape cool-aid every spring training like it was magic water from the fountain of youth, again, not me. If I could have one conversation with him, just one little TÊTE-À-TÊTE to clear the air, it might go a long way toward an ultimate cure. And it might go something like this:

LMIM: Game today.

GM: I know, might be a tough one.

LMIM: What you say? They got this! Just who the hell is Aaron Rodgers anyway?

GM: Um, the guy that has beat us the last like 100 games in a row?

LMIM: Pshaw! We can pick him off, sack his ass, break his other collarbone, and make his life a living hell! He will be wishing that he took up cricket instead!

GM: I dunno, I just feel he is going to pass for like a thousand yards to Jordy Nelson and hang a 5-0 on us.

(Sound of slapping)

LMIM: Wake up! Do you remember back in training camp when everybody said you can't take a 30+ year old defensive end and make him a stand-up outside linebacker?

GM: Um, do you mean Jared Allen?

(Sound of slapping again)

LMIM: Yes I mean Jared fucking Allen!

GM: But they were right, weren't they? And please stop slapping me.

LMIM: No they were wrong, the team gave up on him, besides we've got Pernell McPhee wreaking pure havoc now, that's all that matters.

GM: But Shea McClellin is still my field general out there. I am worried.

(Sound of slapping yet again)

LMIM: WE'RE GOING TO THE SUPER BOWL AND ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS ONE UNDERPRODUCING FIRST ROUND DRAFT PICK BY THE GM THAT WE SHOWED THE DOOR TO!! GET A GRIP, I RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THAT!

GM: Wait, what? We're going to the Super Bowl?

Listen, I know what I got. I got Bears-itis. I don't have NFL-itis, or FanDuel-itis, I couldn't give two craps about all of the fantasy league stuff. I don't care if Tom Brady and Mr. Rodgers go head to head on MNF while wearing woman’s lingerie. I like my home teams. I follow them all. Well, not the White Sox. Never really sure why, but a lot of it has to do with Hawk Harrelson. But I love my Bears. On any given Sunday they say. So why can’t we have like 16 "On any given Sunday's", run the table, maim half of the Packers roster, and make it to the big dance? This could be the year. If I don't believe it, who will?