It’s Only a Game

maybe i’m still riding the wave of world series euphoria but my brain can’t separate the playoffs from the regular season. there are over a hundred games played during the regular season but for some reason my nerves tell me that each game counts.

since i’m not quite over baseball we’ll just have to make due with my current state of mind. my sister and i were having a conversation related to games, just not the same type. it went sorta like this:

sis: so i told the guy we’re not dating.
me: what?!
sis: he’s a good friend but i don’t see him as a boyfriend.
me: do you want to die?
sis: he’s not a violent person. i could kick his butt.
me: throw the jerk out! come on.
sis: that's kinda mean. i still want to be friends.
me: that's wrong. i should go down there right now and talk to him.
sis: he doesn’t even know you. i just don’t want to hurt his feelings.
me: he needs to wear his catcher outfit at all times. then he’ll be safe.
sis: what are you talking about?
me: the pitcher hit posey with a pitch. that's twice already. what's his problem?
sis: he just got him in the tummy. he’ll be ok.
me: that’s true. at least it wasn't in the face. then we’d have some real problems. (shakes fist menacingly at tv)
sis: is kim home yet? i want to talk to her.