Let's Discuss the Ghosts

Let me preface all of this with never in my life have I been witness to anything supernatural. Closest thing I've encountered was a recurring sense of the Virgin Mary whispering sweet nothings in my ear about apocalypse and generosity in my early adolesence. I've since chucked the uniform and most of the apparitions have faded (undoubtedly drifted off to someone with something resembling piety). Recently I've moved into a new house with the husband-to-be (living in sin for a few months just to make sure things aren't wretched-bad when we inhabit the same city, residence, and bed). My horror movie upbringing instructs me that in the midst of our flirtatious unpacking bliss there's something unseemly lurking around the corner. These feelings of dread are exacerbated by each new creak and groan our home sweet home emits, not to mention the voodoo doll our landlord left tucked atop the air shaft in a plastic Schnuck's bag.
Why is it that unfamiliar places seem instantly haunted? Is it because the unfamiliarity leads to fear of the unknown, which my brain translates to, "Ah! Zombie!"
These fears surface every time I inhabit a new space, but what is different this time is that this hauntedness has been sticking to me lately, forming a layer of ick with the consistency of the film my landlord left on every surface. It follows me out the house into my car clinging to me at the office. I feel sticky all day with it. Vapor trails pop out from beneath my desk. Trash cans become trolls and mailboxes lost and waifish children who are about to leap in front of my car. I hear a slow whimper floating around my ear canal. Unidentified sounds are instantly eerie. The construction equipment outside sounds like an out of tune orchestra.
I've become skittish despite my skeptic's rationale. I see no true evidence of ghosts. I had a dream where a obese spectral man in stained sweats chased Ryan up our staircase while bellowing out insults, but other than that things have remained at the eerie level: strange, unnerving, but not threatening and clearly all emotional delusion. After all I'm heading into the big unfamiliar, co-habitation, marriage, cable tv, and culinary experimentation. Each new adventure is punctuated by a small snag in my stomach that says, "Oh my goodness, here we go..." For each snag there is a piglet with a bloody knife in one hoof waiting around the corner.