the sneeze

You know those days when you've finished that long shift at work and all you want to do is go home, have yourself a BBC marathon and veg on the couch while you happily munch on two entire bags of Cadburry eggs? Ya, me too. 

Reality:

Finish long Saturday shift at work.

Drive home. 

Waste time on Pinterest.

Eyelids start to feel like lead.

Realize the night is wasted.

Lay on the couch.

Fall asleep.

I distinctly remember drifting off into sleep. You know, those fine moments when you are keenly aware that you should get up, brush your teeth, wash your face, change out of the disgusting clothes you've been sweating in all day and get in your own bed but instead lay on the couch like a dead gorilla because you are just that dang comfortable? It was in these fine moments of darkness, dreams and silence that I heard, not even slightly joking you, what seemed to be a sneeze underneath my head:

*ACCHHOOO!!!*

My blood turned cold, my even breathing stopped completely. Although too terrified to blink my eyes I threw caution to the wind and loudly screamed, "holyflippinsmokesiamgoingtodieaslowandpainfuldeathwhatthecrapwasthat?!"

I swiped a blanket from the end of the couch, threw it over my entire body all ninja-like, shut my eyes so tight it hurt and say over and over again, "i'm too young to die, i'm too young too die!!" It is in the middle of of this repetitive chant that something heavy hits/grabs/punches? my ribcage. Four things flew threw my mind:

1. i was living my worst nightmare

2. i should've fallen asleep with a can of mace

3. i should've taken karate instead of zumba

4. why did i fall asleep on the couch my bed is 10 billion times more comfortable anyways

I ripped the blanket off, unfolded from the fetal position and found myself looking at this:

What's the difference between a cat and a killer? You tell me.