I can't speak for everyone, but the other day I sat down to read a story on the latest developments of the multiple groups of people who are all desperately trying to tackle the greatest problem of our time - the GAA calendar.
Forget your Covid-19s, your Brexits and your American elections.
Put aside concerns of social unrest and endemic racism being stoked up in the Land of the Free. Do yourself a favour and forget about the whole nasty business of democracy dying a painful one in Belarus.
No. The only show in town right now is finding out how we can keep every last one of the half a million or so members of the GAA happy, so that they can play for their club unhindered by the great ogre of the county manager, and manage to play two codes for their club, college and possibly county, and also how they can manage tailored gym programmes that may be entirely different for each team based on their stage of competition.
We have to keep RTE happy too. And BBC NI. And Sky. And TG4 and Eir Sports, and radio stations. All of them.
Not to mention the warring factions of GAA, GPA and CPA.
And colleges. There's a rich tradition of playing Gaelic games in universities across the island that cannot be let slip. And don't forget the schools! Sport teaches life lessons, leadership and so on.
The aforementioned will present their own ideas of how a season should look in a conference call with GAA officials tonight in the hope of getting on top of this thing once and for all.
A while back, various proposals were sent out to people outside the Fixtures Calendar Review Task Force for taste sampling.
Everybody knows something has to change, but when a solution to one element is found, the butterfly effect kicks in.
There is skin in the game for administrators. As the GAA is enduring its most worrying period ever in these strange Covid-19 times, it would be churlish to say that president John Horan needs a 'win', as such, but he could do with leaving some sort of legacy beyond a second-tier football competition that will most likely be abandoned in a few years' time through the inevitable lack of interest.
Incoming president Larry McCarthy's job could not be greater, but he will want some definite course of action on a problem that has been kicked around for several campaigns now and put years on those following it.
In order for it to work, one thing has to happen - forget about the competitions as they are today.
Some time ago, the GAA, with the ruthless nature of a mob killing, did away with the Railway Cup. They had tried everything, including sponsorship and staging it in Croke Park under lights with full razzmatazz television coverage. Everything.
But the appeal was long gone. With increased county matches and supporters used to watching games on television, it was striking how Ulster retained their fascination with the football competition, fashioned over the dark decades from 1968 to 1991 when they couldn't buy a win in All-Ireland semi-finals.
When it became irrelevant, it was gone. No amount of lamentations could save it.
Whatever the Fixtures Review Task Force arrive at, their solution has to enshrine a fairness across every county. This is near-on impossible.
When Kilcoo completed their domestic itinerary in Down last year, they had played a total of 26 matches.
Their county players were available to play in 22 of them. Yet we have heard from various Dublin stars over the last few years that they had played in the region of only three or four games for their clubs during the entire season.
Which would you prefer? And in this period of club activity where we are looking at some of the finest players going head to head, such as Rory O'Carroll and Diarmuid Connolly, there is a renewed appetite for club activity.
But be warned, there is no solution to all of this.
When you split a season, you immediately ask your inter-county players to play all year round. Bar one team of players, they will go straight from a defeat with one into another side with their own aspirations and ambitions and, crucially, expectations of what their county player will give to them.
By accident rather than design, this Covid-disrupted campaign will be the first split season.
And Tyrone ace Darren McCurry has been the first to point out the madness of a split season.
"At the end of the day, we have a life to live as well, and I just think it's unfair to put that pressure on county players," he said of going straight from his club Edendork into a county season.
"To expect the players to play in a tough club season week in, week out and then be expected to go and start with the county again right up to Christmas, then push into the following year with the McKenna Cup and Allianz League, I think that they're expecting too much of the county players."
Fair play to him for having thought it out. There will be more dissent coming.
What is a global pandemic and subsequent lockdown for if you cannot do a little self-reflection and navel gazing as to your purpose on this earth?
This summer marked something of an anniversary for me in that it was 20 years - on and off and certainly not continuously - since I began covering sporting events at the weekends.
The last decade has seen a drastic increase. I could end up covering as many as 50 games of hurling, football, ladies' football and camogie in a year. It's a lot of time spent in press boxes, a lot of time poking at the egg and onion sandwiches and quick calculations if your constitution could handle the workload that consumption would ask of it.
All that time spent observing sport from a distance gifts you a necessary detachment to the battle unfolding. This is essential as a sportswriter.
While others are frothing at the mouth over a referee decision, you are chalking it down as a mere statistic of the game.
After observing this practice in my work life, I found it very hard to go back onto Civvy Street if attending a game just for the sake of it, not for work. My level of tolerance for the emotions that others go through during the course of a match have obviously become depleted.
Listening to expert opinions on the bank isn't for me. Instead, I prefer to go to a quieter part of the ground and watch a game in peace, away from the baying mob. Behind the goals is a particular favourite, but I'm not fussy.
In that respect, social distancing has been a godsend for anti-socialites such as myself. You can get away with standing out of the road and it isn't seen as being odd or peculiar, but rather a responsible citizen of the world.
Since restrictions have eased, I must confess to having gone to a game at every chance. This summer of uncomplicated club action has been a joy to behold, if only for the freedom of getting out into the fresh air.
And having studied the supporters up close over this particular period, I can conclude that there is no sense to anyone's reactions to a sporting event.
I have a friend who, at first sight, would be mistaken for the most serene character you could come across.
He attended a game last year that meant a great deal to him. He knew he would experience the usual feelings at a match, and so he trained himself to adopt a Zen-like approach to whatever happened.
It was going well until he heard a rough voice imploring the referee to do something physically impossible.
And he then discovered that the voice he heard was his very own.