Saturday, May 26, 2007

Make a wish.

I was awakened in the middle of the night. Nature called.

I get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. I don't bother turning on the lights, after all, this is a small apartment and I know where everything is, right? Right?

I walk through the living room, so far so good. Halfway through the kitchen I can see the outline of the bathroom door just past the entry. When I hit the threshold of the entry I realize my miscalculation. When making the decision to not turn the lights on I have failed to take into consideration the bane of my existence, that is, Sammy.

I know I have mentioned Sammy before. Need I remind you that Sammy is black? (Although he prefers African Canadian Feline. Yes, he is a snotty, PC cat.) For whatever retarded reason, Sammy decided that the best place to sleep tonight was in the middle of the direct route to the bathroom. I don't think he will make that mistake again, assuming he lives.

I digress. So, I can see the outline of the door and make a B-line. As I step through the last doorway I feel the softness under my foot. Then this mind splitting, earth shattering screech. It was low, guttural and then built up like one of those assholes with the cars blaring some asinine hip hop song that they just have to know that no one wants to hear besides them, but they still insist on playing full blast, knowing full well that all we will hear is the base until they are right beside us. Assholes! What was I talking about? Oh right, the cat.

So I feel the softness, then the softness gets hard and moves. Slow this down in your mind. Pitch blackness and the Fat Chick is about to go airborne. Sammy feels the weight and understandably tries to flee, sideways. My left foot is on the carpet my right foot is resting squarely on Sammy's midsection about to crush the life out of him. He zigs, and I zag. Seconds later, I am dangerously close to completing the splits. And believe me, limber is not a word you would ever use to describe me.

My mind snaps to attention, "There is no way you will survive the splits. They call it 'the splits' for a reason, fool, you will split." I need to reach for something, desperately I try to imagine what might be close. In my mind I can see the table in the entry, am I close enough to grab it? Of course not, I lurch forward to avoid the splits and I almost caught myself on the table, but the tips of my fingers barely touch it and I feel myself head for the floor. At the very least, the splits have been avoided but my mind snaps back to let me know that if my fingers missed the table then that means my forehead would not.

Thankfully, I am a procrastinator and there was a cardboard box with papers in it on the edge of the table so my forehead stuck that instead of the wood. Otherwise I would most definately be out cold. Please add cursing and swearing to the soundtrack of this little movie (definately not PG13)in your head and bare in mind, I am a fat chick so in no way was this even remotely graceful so you can just forget that Matrix visual.

The moral of the story is: If nature calls, hang up. Cuz pissing the bed is preferable to ending up in a coma after being snapped in half like a wishbone.

4 comments:

Grog said...

Word to the wise. Shuffle your feet across the floor when making nocturnal visits to the facilites. The only think that will go airborne is the cat.

Anna said...

LMAO - so what about poor Sammy! He's alright isn't he?!

(Hey, by the way what happened to the boy's tunes. I tried to play them the other day and they wouldn't work - and now they're completely gone?)

Anna

Evel said...

They work fine for me.

kelly said...

yeah my cat does that too so i drag my feet when i get close to the doorway lol