Wednesday, October 20, 2010
I'm Not Dead. Insane? Quite Possibly...
Case in point: Monday night Lobster and I were relaxing before bed. He was watching ESPN (riveting, I tell you) so I was reading a magazine. When Lobster turned off the t.v. and then his bedside lamp, I put down the magazine and reached for my lamp as well because I'm a nice fiancee who turns off her light when her hubby-to-be is ready to sleep. In the process of reaching for my lamp, I knocked my magazine off the bedside table. The noise of it smacking on the ground slightly startled Lobster. Normally, this is not a very funny event. But I started to snicker and, because I'm a nice fiancee, I took my snickering self to the bathroom so that Lobster wouldn't realize I was snickering. Have you ever been in church and started to laugh but you knew it was inappropriate so you tried to stifle the laughter, which just made it harder not to laugh? Yeah, same situation here. I spent a good five minutes in the bathroom stifling my laughter. Thinking I had myself under control, I went back to bed. Quietly, I laid down and pulled the covers up to my chin. I breathed deeply. I willed myself to just go to sleep.
Suddenly, like a ninja sneeze that comes out of nowhere, I literally BURST into eye-watering, chest-heaving, stomach-muscle-spasming laughter. Lobster shot upright in bed and yelled, "What? Are you okay? What's the matter?" (Later, I found out he thought I was crying. Sobbing, in fact. That's how deeply I was laughing).
"I-I'm okay!" I managed to sputter. "Laughing!" I clarified through the relentless spasms.
"WHAT?!" Clearly, Lobster was not amused.
"I'm sorry, baby!" I giggled. And then snorted. And then began sob-laughing again.
"You scared the sh*t out of me!" Lobster yelled. "I was almost asleep and now my heart is going 90 miles an hour! You're going to kill me!"
I tried to say I was sorry again, but all I could manage was another round of snort-laughing out of my nose because I was desperately trying to stop myself from launching into another round of belly laughs.
Glaring at me in the dark, Lobster sighed frustratedly and turned over with his back to me. He was still not amused and now, highly annoyed. After about 30 seconds of deep breathing and forcing myself to think of as many un-funny things as possible (like math or our Wedding budget), I thought I was finally under control.
And then I began wondering what had been so funny in the first place. Oh, yeah, my magazine fell.
And then I burst out laughing again.
So, no, although the Wedding has not killed me (yet) there is a good chance that it has driven me slightly insane. Lobster should hightail it while he still has the chance.