Note to everyone at my office: Today, I’m all about the happy.

Seriously, if you’re looking to lay a ton of paperwork at someone’s feet, or borrow a ten-spot, or take in a quickie behind the Mountain Dew machine on the fifth floor (yes, Doreen, you little minx in Accounting, I’m talking to you), then I’m your guy. Me, right here. The guy skipping down the corridor and fumbling with his dress-code-regulation Red Sox tie.

See, the thing is the Red Sox are in first place in the AL East. And currently flaunting the second-best record in all of baseball. And Curt Schilling, whose membership application to the Justice League of America is almost certainly in the mail at this very moment, has won thirteen games. And Manny Ramirez is being Manny Ramirez, which is to say grown men would rather climb naked over rows of barbed-wire fences than pitch to him. And for the second game in a row, the Sox offense, which was curiously sleepy during the Kansas City series, is suddenly on a Red Bull and cigarettes diet, all jumpy and edgy and anxious to step up to the plate to burn off the excess energy. And David Wells, who just a month ago seemed relegated to sofa duty, is standing upright and throwing balls and, through the healing powers of hot chicken pies and mother Budweiser, ready to step back into the show. And, to top it all off, the good folks at NESN, with all due respect to Jessica Alba and Rachel Ray, continue to be man’s best friend, replaying these late-night games in neat little 2-hour packages during normal east coast breakfast hours, so that those of us who found ourselves inexplicably narcolpetic around the fourth inning last night (raises hand) can still enjoy that lambasting of an eighth inning, in which the Sox scored six runs and said hello to old pal Scott Sauerbeck.

Best of all: Today’s game is an afternoon game, but with that gorgeous three-hour time difference, I don’t have to fake a heart attack and abruptly leave the office until 3:59, unlike those Fenway matinees where I have to start moaning and clutching my chest around 12:59, which seemed to interfere with my lunchbreak anyway.

So go ahead and smile. We’ve earned it.