Contrary to popular belief about the City of Brotherly Love, it is NOT a city that has perfected "The Choke", nor is it a city doomed to defeat for all time. We did well, considering we were facing a "dynasty-in-the-making". Fans didn't erupt into mass rioting, and there were only a few drunken fan-throws-beer-bottle-
at-random-inanimate-object arrests. I guess they were rioting on the inside.
I confess, I'd love to know what the hell my team was doing on the field during those last 4 minutes...what was with the huddling while precious moments slipped away? I'll never know.
What I would also like to know what it is that happens in the human brain when we've "had enough" that makes us feel like we need to suddenly smash something or throw something.
I don't mean a prolongued tantrum or a planned visit to a hall closet for a primal scream. I'm talking more like when you dropped the toothbrush behind the toilet, ran out of hot water midway through your shower, you couldn't find a sock and then finally, when you went to brush your hair, the brush got stuck and kept pulling so you snapped and threw the hairbrush at the wall. You might also yell or cry after doing so.
Tonight it happened while I was trying to wrestle some defrosted salmon out of its plastic wrap and bag to place in a pan. I could envision myself slipping and throwing the salmon right out of the bag onto the floor. Then Guy started talking with me about something - I don't even remember now. I was so focused on trying to get the stupid salmon out of the bag/wrap without making a mess, that when Guy spoke to me, I nearly hissed at him. I was told to go sit down.
It's late and I'm not feeling particularly like smashing anything, but I confess I am really tired and itchy on my arms. I saw on the Real World/Philadelphia that one roomate got Scabies. I hope I don't have scabies! Eeeew yuck.
