Thanks for all the comments, folks-
I've been having a stressful week, so your comments have helped, what with all the Red Sox drama, and the fact that I'm starting to have this insatiable urge to walk around naked.
The first couple of days, I chalked it up to Red Sox behavior. You know, after game 5, I got so excited that I literally howled.
Like, -howled- howled.
You know how they say "howl with laughter", and you're not really literally howling, you're just, you know- laughing really hard?
Well, when Ortiz hit that pitch over second base and Damon headed for home, I tore off my shirt, lept up on the leg of my couch, squatted on all fours, arched my back and just cut loose with a full-on, motherfucking, whole-throated animal howl.
And I'm not talking that pussy-ass Tarzan shit either. I'm talking pedal to the metal, animal on a bluff hunting the innocent type of : "How-How-How HOWLLLLLLLLL!!"
It was pretty rad, I'm not going to lie to you.
It felt so good that I just tore all my clothes off and kind peed a little bit on the leg of my couch- you know- just to remind me it's mine. I've been mostly naked since then, at least when I'm in the apartment.
Anyway, my cat pretty much lives under my bed permanantly now. I still put food out, and I know he eats it, seeing as when I come back to my apartment some of it is gone, but whenever I try to coax him out from under the bed, he hisses at me.
I don't know what is happening to me.
Game seven is gonna start in a few minutes.
I love the Red Sox, but I'm a little worried that this series is doing strange things to me.