Mac Attacked.

Today I went down to SD to help Jomie move out. She didn't plan ahead at all and forgot to pack til I got there. Because tipoff for game 4 was at 6, we packed up all her stuff sans lunch, and hauled ass back home. At least until around Solana Beach at which time rush hour traffic grabbed us by the ass and wouldn't let go until forever. By the time we got near Anaheim around 2 hours later, I started to feel really restless; especially in my legs. Hey, no big deal right? I mean, it was a pretty bad drive. At first it was just a tingling in my right knee, then my left. Around Buena Park (I avoided the 57 and took the 5 to Beach) I had this terrible mental/physical itch that made me wanna kick like a mule. Man, this was a bad drive. Or so I thought. 15 minutes later (Or around the middle of the 2nd quarter of the game when LA was getting "manhandled" by Dwight Howard; as described by Mychal Thompson) I started to get really irritable. I didn't realize it until Jomie told me she was scared and that I should slow down. I don't know if it was the Jamba Juice from Price Center, the long drive, or the shitty way the game was unfolding, but I started to get cold sweats. When I realized I was literally sweating my ass off with the windows wide open at 7 pm on a gloomy day, I got really worried. At this point, I realized I was hungry, restless, irritable, itching, and sweating, and hungry. Jomie kept trying to reassure me that at this point we were only 10 minutes from home, and that dad probably has snacks in the kitchen somewhere. Needless to say, I was worried for my life at this point and I probably would've driven the van into a tree within 10 minutes. I stopped at the McDonalds 5 minutes short of home, had a McChicken and 2 Apple Pies, and instantly felt insanely better. I can't describe how much better I felt. I was less than 2 hours of hungry from homicidal when I was ordering, and 3 minutes later after the meal I was close to feeling good enough to give my sister money for school. They have 2 TVs in McDonalds now. The Lakers were down 6 when we went home for dinner.



I had to write this entry because I don't ever remember a time where I felt so strongly about anything where my body was trying to kill me with cold sweats and everything if I didn't get something from McDonalds. I thought about this a lot during and after the "Mac Attack", and it was one of those times where nothing else would suffice. It felt highly reminiscent of "Burgin", but way way worse. This was not a heyifeellikeburgersnotreallyfeelingburritos type of thing; this was life or death. Really. Probably the most extreme thing I've ever had to endure. The 15 minutes before that McChicken was insane; I was completely aware that my body was gradually turning against me. I imagine this is how those grasshoppers feel when fly larvae develop in their bodies and slowly take over their brains and zombify them.