I've had this hungry look in my eyes for the past week and a half. Everywhere I go, my eyes are always calculating and searching for things that I can stuff in my pockets, stuff in my car or stuff in Deb's bag. Anything that's not bolted down is fair game. Anything can be made into a cup, plate or chair.

I'm insatiable! It's not like I might actually steal anything big. It's just the rush of imagining myself carrying a huge leather sofa down Broad Street and cramming that bad boy into the front door so that when guests come over I can say, "Yeah, I got that in Milan." in reality it was just from some guy's bad judgment, I mean - generosity of not locking his doors. No, but really. I'm not going to break in some blind guy's house and say, "I'm from the electric company, would you mind moving over to the side and ignore the heaves and scraping of the furniture - we're just trying to get into the hard to reach places." and then steal his things.

Nope, that is not me at all.

But this campaign of thievery has taken a toll on my good boy image. My vocabulary has gotten from an A+ range of "thus" and "therefore's" to an absurd "psst...do you see any cameras?" and "Just wipe off the chopsticks and put them in your bag!" My Friday nights no longer consist of me going to the movies with friends but going to the Student Center late at night and itching to just drag that shitty little sofa chair out of the back door. (Yes, this really happened. We almost would have too if not for the scare of someone saying "Hey, who dat?")

Indeed, who have I become?

Perhaps, this is just a phase.