I STILL believe.
Didn't turn the TV on until the middle of the 4th -- we were at Brian's and I was undergoing a Moving Stress Episode (MSE). (Yeah, that happy pseudo-Buddhist be-here-now all-is-well feeling that I wrote about here seems to have been washed down the storm drain during the recent torrential rains. I'm hoping it will drag its bedraggled wet ass back to me soon, because I could use some serenity right about now.) When I realized what time it was and how much I had missed, I cried. We drove down to my house with the AM radio coming in and out and in again until finally I got fed up with trying to hear the ESPN announcers through all the static and we shut it off.
Got settled back in front of the TV in time to see both the best of times (Papi! Papi! Papi!) and the worst of times (Papi!!!! What the FUCK????). Gutted it out through the 7th, 8th, and those last three beautiful outs of the top of the 9th.
More moving today, more moving tomorrow, hoping to be all done by Tuesday morning, because that's presumably the day I'm selling the house (we won't get into my Closing-Related Anxiety (CRA) in this post). We may be sleeping at Brian's house tonight if we can clear a big enough space to lie down in. Or maybe we'll sleep out on the lawn. Who knows. It's all in the hands of the universe and I will just breathe in and out and trust in the power of the Red Sox to both win the World Series and get me through this move. They're that good. Ohm.