Here I am, dancing about the room like Kevin Kline in A Fish Called Wanda swinging my swords about and hacking great chunks out of things I’ll probably regret destroying in the morning and asking myself, “Why am I acting this way?”
Then I looked up. Goddamn full moon. Someday I’ll realize that when the energy level is a damn sight higher than it should be after a week at work and a general feeling of weirdness pervades it’s probably a full moon and it would just be safer to have some kind soul tie me up and feed me regularly until it passes.
Or it could be the bikes racing by my window at all hours.