'cause I've got pac-man fever...

Right now is that time in a New York City apartment where you have the window open because: a) it's too warm to be winter, b) it's too cold to be summer, or c) I'm too lazy to put in the air conditioning unit now.

So, as a result of the open window, I keep hearing the ghosts of Chuck E. Cheese past.

Just last night, I could have sworn I heard this, followed by this, and then by this.

Either I'm really loosing it, or the taxi repair shop across the street just got Ms. Pac-Man.