Rachel,
Here's a bit of heresy for you. I work in media, and I am drowning in Super Bowl this and Super Bowl that. Ours is a big agency and we work with clients who are running in the game, so of course you'd expect people to talk about it. But it's everybody, even the women. Eleven months of the year they are rational creatures, but in the first weeks of January they transform into almost football groupies, and it's as if they think if they talk enough about the game they'll get guys to ask them out. Please, I can't wait until Sunday is over. Then I only have a week more or so to suffer. Sign me, Done In.

Dear Done In,
I don't know why you are writing to me, but I will attempt to address your beef, and I will be blunt.

This is your time of the year to suffer, so get used to it. If you don't like football, that's up to you, but you can't expect people who do like the sport to talk about something else whenever you walk into the room. And besides, you have 11 other months each year when Super Bowl is not the major topic of conversation.

As for the women you talk about, you are doing them a disservice to suggest they are just talking sports to snag a guy. I'm going to ballpark this but I'd guess that at least 40 percent of the people who watch the game on Sunday are women, and I'd be willing to make a bet that the vast majority are watching because they're enjoying themselves, not because they're trying to snag some guy.

I presume you will not be watching the game on Sunday, and I can assure you, you'll be in the minority. A Media Life poll earlier this week found that just 2 percent of media planners and buyers who responded to the survey were not going to be watching the Colts take on the Saints.

But here I must confess something. Come Sunday I will be one of them.

Like you, I've had my fill of the Super Bowl, and on Sunday evening I will be home alone, curled up in my bathrobe and watching a movie on Lifetime titled "Widow on the Hill," a story about a young hospice nurse who's hired by a wealthy man to take care of his ailing wife.

The wife dies, the nurse marries the wealthy widower, and as these things happen, he then dies, leaving her his fortune.

So far so good. But then the late husband's daughter begins raising a ruckus, accusing our nurse of doing her father in, and it gets ugly from there.

To me, that sounds like a far more interesting story than whether Peyton Manning wins his second Super Bowl ring.