Susan waits all week for the Sunday papers.
She reads the cheeky lowbrow NY Post along with the know it all NY Times. Susan herself doesn't know it all because she only reads the sections that she's in the mood for. This generally means no politics beyond who's where doing what and sometimes barely that much.
When Susan chose to stop commuting four hours a day to a job that she loved in NYC she had to quit reading
The Post because it just made her sad. Eventually she got used to waking up with the sun and goofing off at an easy civil service job, um, toiling in service for the citizens of New York state and was able to enjoy The Post again.
She's pretty sure Alfred E. Neuman writes it.
Sunday morning always finds her at the table with a cup of coffee and her index finger pointing to the last word she read before the husband started talking. His own paper is open & he's usually making a crack about the president while Susan rolls her eyes and tells him he sounds like a bitching housewife and will he finally stop talking so she can continue reading.
Susan enjoyed reading this story.