The ghost that haunts your house will be standing at the foot of your bed again, watching you sleep.
No, she won’t. Also… I’m going to pretend there’s no ghost here, thanks.
No, seriously. Open your eyes. She is STARING RIGHT AT YOU. Oh my god, is she licking her lips? Whitney, you’ve got to see this.
No, no. No. If I open my eyes and see her, that’s exactly what she wants. I won’t give her that satisfaction, that nosy bitch.
Fine. Do you hear that whooshing sound?
You mean the wind outside?
Yeah. It’s getting worse. It’s getting louder. A tree is going to crash through the roof and kill you.
No, no. That won’t happen.
Yeah it will. Either that, or it will smash all of your books. But you’re probably going to die. And Atreyu will eat you because he hates you.
My dog does NOT hate me!
Think about it. Sometimes he sleeps with his butt by your head just so he can fart by your face.
I think that’s probably a sign of affection.
Probably not. But it doesn’t matter. You’re either going to die at the hands of an angry ghost tonight, freeze to death in your sleep, or be squashed by a tree. Sleep tight, Whit.
God dammit. I guess I’ll just clamp up into the fetal position with my eyes glued shut and hope to make it to morning.
Good luck with that. I’ll be telling you how much you suck all night.
PS-friends! I am officially nominated for the WEGO Health Hilarious Health Activist Award. Please take two seconds out of your busy days of medicating your anxiety into submission with chocolate to endorse me by going here and clicking the endorse button. Thanks!