end game

Some time in the last few years, I can't remember exactly when, I was in the pool room at the now-closed Paramount and my friend Emily, who was sitting next to my friend Darius, said she had resolved to have better end game and then noted that I was someone who had good end game.
I am always suspicious that someone is using a sports metaphor that I can't understand (am bitter over the whole sports metaphor thing because as a literary type (won't see what type) I should automatically understand all metaphors, but as a nonsportsy type, sports metaphors, of which there are many, go over my head. (Yes, I know, I've now used a triple paranthetical set up for this digression. In ice-skating, that's called a triple axis). (No it's not)), but in this case I think it just sounded like a sports metaphor ('cuz of the word game).
Ahem. Anyway, end game, as I recall, was a simple way of talking about following through, finishing up. Finishing what one starts, that is. And it's true. I've got a good end game. I've gots no choice in the matter most of the time.
So here we are on a Monday, approaching press run one of the double press run for the double 84 page issue. If you saw the tiny number of people who accomplish this paper year round you might feel less inclined to send me nasty letters (or maybe not. I don't seem to be the kind of person who prompts much sympathy from others for some reason).
My eyes are gritty. My bronchitis is, um, well, full bodied? Donalee and Kirsten dropped off freshly-baked cookies earlier. My friend Megan just got to town and a bunch of us are having dinner tonight although, I must confess, my appetite is at an all-time low.
My boss has apparently ordered air purifiers for the office; the hacking from the editorial chambers all through the house have been, it seems, noted.
I have four invitations for Christmas Eve. Unfortunately, all of them involve leaving my house. Is there any chance it's going to go up to the mid 60s in the next week?
My best friend Sonya comes in from Alaska on Wednesday to stay w/ me. Yay!
I have done no holiday shopping yet and there is a little bit that can't be avoided. That means I will have to enter a store somtime in the next 72 hours or so.
I don't like shopping.
Actually, although I'm not much for ranting against "the man" and "consumerism" I gotta say there's a whole lot of consumerism being pushed by the man these days.
I barely made it out of Target the other day and I was just trying to get some laundry detergent (came perilously close to buying, for no apparent reason, a lifetime supply of multicolored votive candles. You know, for that midnight mass I like to put on at my house).
Oh lord, here come more pages for me to read.