All I want to know is.... WHERE IS BETTY DRAPER FRANCIS?

If she doesn't make a return tonight, I'll be forced to watch women's basketball. And if lady hoops don't thrill you... Kim Mulkey's outfits certainly will. (Somebody, assemble a photographic montage of awesomeness. Get on that. For the love).

Spent the better part of my day in a production truck. Texas Spring Game. Er, Showcase. (Because a game in which you cannot potentially sack the living ish out of the quarterback is not a game at all).

And I like to kick... streeeeetch... and kick.

Had every intention of signing up for barre classes and a gym membership on the way home, but the place "closed" at five. Thirty seven minutes tardy for that party. I mourned with peanut butter pretzels and half a jar of jalapeños. I mean, dinner. And then poured myself a glass of Malbec to avoid face-planting into the leftover bowl of Nutella Cloud Frosting. I have so much self control. So. Much.

Floaties, anyone? I think I'll just swim around for a bit.

On top of that, can I just confess that I'm a gullible sucker who believes my friend is knocked up and my brother is kicked out of college ALL ON THE SAME DAY? Here I am trying to juggle life-altering text messages while building full screens for our pre-game show, wondering for a solid ten minutes how such bizarre things are happening to everyone I love..... Oh. Ohhhhh. (Lightbulb). April Fools, fool.