I want to punch Archuleta

I had a long day yesterday. I was up at 5:45am in order to make it to my first coffee meeting of the morning at 6:30 with my Dad at "our" Starbucks. I had my REAL cup of coffee there. Then had a 8:00 and a 9:30 coffee meeting, each at different locations that served coffee. I of course ordered coffee at each, but barely touch it, it was more for effect.
Annie and I went to our favorite sandwich place in Dallas, Central Market, for dinner and headed home to watch a couple of reality shows that apparently everyone else in the world was watching last night, American Idol and Dancing with the Stars. While driving home I got a couple of emails on my blackberry. This is the joy and the curse of the 'berry, you find out what is going on the second it happens. Both emails were regarding the two sales that I was told would be completed this week. One deal is dead, the other is more complicated now. I didn't need to know that last night did I? But since there was nothing I could do about either until I got back into the office this morning, I was resigned to watching the best singers and dancers in America duke it out for the viewers votes.
I hadn't watched any American Idol until last week when my brother Peter and his girl friend Kristen needed me to DVR the show as they would be just getting off a plane as the results were announced and Syesha Mercado would be sent home. So this week I was curious to see how the two Davids would perform. David Cook did well and should have stuck with U2 the entire night because he absolutely was incredible with his rendition of "Still haven't found what I'm looking for." David Archuleta definitely had the more consistent night as he sang three songs that all sounded exactly the same and were carefully picked to make sure he stayed in his area of sappy competency.
But as I said, I was in a bad mood after having a long day.
By the time Archuleta sang the third note of his third song "Imagine" I was ready to slap that annoying little twerp and his awkward and not at all sincere humility across the floor of the Nokia Theater. Why must he bend at the waist and bounce like he is constipated as he hits the high notes? Is it really necessary to squint? With every teary-eyed-head shaking trembling-voice "Thank you, oh my gosh, I can't believe it" my anger rose. And then, when Randy, Paula, AND Simon just laid out and didn't have a single mean thing to say, I really got mad.
I wanted Simon to destroy him.
I just wanted to get some aggression out and since the gym was closed, I figured why not him?
Now, granted, I just blogged about American Idol, something I care nothing about. But for last night's purposes, it did distract me enough from everything else that is going on that it served its purpose as entertainment.
Now back to true reality.....