There are “things” growing in my closet under a pile of dirty clothes. It may be mutant vampire mice. It may be a new form of sentient mold. I’m afraid to look. What if doesn’t live up to my imagination? What if it’s something mundane? What if I’m boring?
That’s always the question for people of an odd bent. Am I really weird, or am I just a poser? Is my world a construct of my personality, or am I just a contrarian?
Well, the things growing in the closet dissolved all my polyester clothes. Time to call the exterminator.