It’s Thursday and I’m burnt. My brain is overloaded and my nerves are shot. The Super Bowl usurped my emotions for a good, long time (GO GIANTS) and Super (Fat) Tuesday muddled my brain.

I haven’t even drank that much this week. It’s the nature of these two events that has me thoroughly befuddled. Neither gave me any sense of understanding… or confidence in natural progression. The notion of my Giants as Super Bowl Champions still startles me. The unsettled primary has me – well – unsettled.

I knew that I would need Super (Fat) Tuesday to give me perspective following the Super Bowl. I expected the day to ground me in reality… “there things more important than football… blah, blah, blah” … and to provide clarity on the upcoming political path. Sure the former was provided, albeit it wasn’t at the deep level I had expected. (I’m still too giddy). But the clarity… there is no clarity!

As a political neophyte (by age, not by knowledge or involvement) , I often come across instances in politics that surprise me. Those turns of events often are grounded in a reality with which I understand fairly easily. The muddled Democratic primary and downright confused Republican primary have evaded my comprehension.

I need to hash this out.

Lucky for me, I was graced with the presence of my fellow S&P luminary Thomas on Super (Fat) Tuesday. We casually watched the returns at some bar in Bethesda, focused more on bullshitting and following a mouse darting across the kitchen floor. Every time I glanced at the screen, Obama was picking up another state and Wolf Blitzer was saying something stupid… surprising, and not so surprising. B.O. was doing this on the heels of losing significantly in NY, NJ, and MA. Early in the night, after the glow of his GA thumping passed, it looked like Hill was running away with the darn thing.

But no, that’d be too easy. B.O. kept picking off states a Northeasterner like myself has never been near. So I start thinking, “Wow, he might pull off the upset.” I was wrong. After leaving the bar and wandering down Wisconsin Avenue, soon realizing that the bus that was supposed to take me home didn’t go there, I cabbed it home.

The cabbie, a Kenyan immigrant who was equally perplexed by the Dem primary, marveled at B.O.’s attraction to young people and explained to me that he was the face America needed to make the world like us again. With that said, he still didn’t know who he supported… but he was leaning towards Barack because he didn’t have the “luggage” that Hill does.

I get home – feeling sweaty gross because it was freaking 70 degrees in DC – and turn on the TV to see my man Olbermann calling Cali for Hill who was standing strong with a solid double digit lead. Matthews’ head looks like its going to explode because he can’t comprehend what’s going on, and starts to explain that “Hillary won the night…” until B.O. pulls off the comeback in Mizzou.

Everybody is flabbergasted at this point. The Republican race provides no respite either. Mike ”I came from NO monkey!” Huckabee is pulling off his own Southern strategy, while Johnny Mac seems to have pulled ahead by the strength of the Democratic wing of the Republican party. It’s about this time they bring Brokaw on the set, who does what he always does… makes it alllll better. He tells me that “tonight was a draw for the Dems” and “the Republicans now a have front-runner… but not a very strong one.”

Sadly, the relief only lasts for so long. I wake up the next morning very tired with a brain that feels like a cotton ball. People at work continually ask me, “What do you make of last night?? What’s going to happen now??” My answer? I have no freaking clue. I give up on prognosticating. I feel bad for the Chuck Todd’s of the world who get paid to do this because this year makes no freaking sense.