What a difference a week can make. Looking back on a blog of random thoughts I published exactly one week ago, I realize that I have a few more additional points to make on each of my musings.

If you didn't read last Monday's blog, skim it here. It's OK, I'll wait ...

The Packers vs. Brett: That awful game played out, unfortunately, exactly how I thought it would. Favre was cool and collected and completely dismantled the Packers. Plenty has been written about the game, but I'll just say this: I was in a terrible mood the next day, and then suddenly, I remembered why I've divorced myself from the Packers. I can't let football dictate my life like that. Win, lose or draw -- it's just a game. A game that I'm not playing, and more importantly, has absolutely no real effect on my life. Like everything else in this world, you can't have your heart broken if you don't make an emotional investment.

The shark not jumped: For all my enthusiasm about "Curb Your Enthusiasm," I watched Jim and Pam get married on Thursday's episode of "The Office." My verdict? Eh. Certainly, parts were laugh-out-loud funny, but the aisle dancing montage at the end was forced, random and self-indulgent. I fear that one of my favorite shows has lost its edge, and we'll all remember this episode as the day "The Office" jumped the shark.

Too cold, too soon: In a word, yes. But unlike last week when I was bitching and moaning, this week I'm embracing it -- busting out the fall clothes, drinking hot chocolate and toasting the change of seasons. Why? Because complaining about winter only makes it last longer, and in actuality, fall is a great season. Its only downfall is that it comes right before winter. I might even grow an autumn beard.

Call me Al: I did it. It almost killed me, but I did it. On Saturday, I bundled up and hobbled my way through Al's Run, five miles of shin-splint induced torture. My official time was an unimpressive 55 minutes, 36 seconds. However, both my GPS and a Google Map route showed the race to be 5.11 miles (instead of the 4.97 miles it was supposed to be), so I'm insisting that I ran at a pace of 10-minute, 52-second miles. Plus, around the three-mile mark, I stopped to pee, so you could probably shave 40 seconds off my time had I been able to "hold it." That "impressive" finish put me in 2,841st place out of 3,185 runners. I know how horrible that is, but I'm still extremely pleased, given the fact that I was limping before I even started, and now I can barely walk. I'll be taking some time off to heal, but after three months of training, I can honestly say, "Mission accomplished."

Hope springs eternal: Now that the Brewers season is over, I haven't watched a single game of the playoffs. I just don't care. Which is weird, since in the middle of the summer, I cared about nothing more than baseball. I've been told this makes me a bad fan, that there's apparently more out there than my own team. So be it, then. As far as I'm concerned, if it's not the Brewers, then it's not happening.