Inspired by Oh Noa's "Everything Is Trying To Kill Me" post (http://ohnoa.com/2012/02/everything-is-trying-to-kill-me), she says "Sometimes my brain creates the most irrational, invasive thoughts and works against me, acting as my personal reminder for all the horrifying things that could and probably will happen to me," I wanted to share my *own* list of irrational ways I fear I will meet my death.
Here are the myriad ways in which I will die:
-- While running down the steps at work in my favorite tall boots, I will slip and topple down 3 flights like a giant flesh basketball banging down the cement stairwell as clothes rip off my unconscious form at every turn, leaving my dead, naked and bruised corpse at the bottom for traumatic identification by the coworkers I looked up to most.
-- A snake will crawl out of the toilet while I’m on it and slither into my body cavity and devour my innards. Then my family will find my hollowed-out naked & shamed husk right when the snake’s eggs that were laid inside my abdomen hatch, transforming the simple act of opening a bathroom door into the apocalypse.
-- While sewing, I will accidentally drop a needle and later step on it where it will proceed to sink deeply into my heel and I will die instantly of pain and tetanus.
-- While plucking an errant hair, my elbow will slip on the wet bathroom sink and plunge the tweezers into my eye pointy-edge first.
-- I will scalp myself blowdrying my hair because it will somehow get sucked into the back of the hairdryer in a freak accident, forcefully ripping out a great patch of fiercely embedded strands before the hairdryer catches on fire spreading flames to my loose bathrobe and engulfing me.
-- I will slip in the shower and, while ripping the shower curtain down, cause the rod to slam my neck into the side tank of the toilet, instantly rendering me a quadriplegic unable to call for help while the lower half of my body continues to get showered on until the hot water runs out and turns icy cold, freezing me until my paralyzed body dies of hypothermia.
-- A wolf spider will crawl down my throat while sleeping, causing me to wake to violent choking and then die instantly of a massive heart attack as I see a hairy-legged insect, coated in mucus and saliva and writhing furiously, ejected from my throat.
-- A tornado will engulf the house while I sleep, lifting me up into a swirling rush of debris, painfully maiming me airborne after ripping off my clothes and dismembering me mid-air on camera with the Storm Chaser news team.
THIS is how my brain likes to exert its creativity. I could maybe make use of 9 lives. You have any irrational fears?