The Death of Self-Image

Sure, Gonzalez resigned this morning, and we're all very happy about that. But it's no shocker.

The shocker of the day came when I dragged my ass out of bed this morning before 6 a.m. to deal with the kids, glanced in the mirror, and saw this:



Unshaven, unwashed, overweight, hair mussed, hanes undershirt stretched by tiny hands perpetually pulling me down, my reflection looked more like Khalil Sheikh Mohammed than the once-young-and-dapper Isaac I used to know.

Sigh.