I almost killed myself

I almost killed myself last night. I went to bed around 10. It was cold, so the heater was on. In no time, I was dead asleep. At some unknown hour I woke up to an eerie querulous hissing noise. The room was hot like an oven; I was sweating profusely (and was a wee bit under cooked for a full tandoori). I looked around and took no time to locate where that hissing sound was coming from. It was the spiraled coils on the room heater that was red hot and sizzling. Wow ! That was a close call. Few more minutes, and I could have made it to the oddly enough columns.

All that heat made me thirsty, so I walked to the kitchen in search of water. After quenching my thirst, I looked in my refrigerator to find something to eat. I opened the freezer first, and didn't find anything interesting there, so I opened the bottom door and stuck my head in. It was cold, and boy! It felt GOOOOD. I stayed there with my cheek resting on a half cut watermelon. Slowly the overpowering smell of the sweet melon made me hungry like hell. So I grabbed it, pulled my head out, straightened up and…..baaaam! I damn near killed myself when my head hit the open freezer door.

When I came back to my senses, I was laying on the floor covered in splattered watermelon; my head resting on garbage from the knocked over garbage can. Above me I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a bend freezer door hanging on the only remaining hinge. And on my side stood a pair of bewildered wide open eyes which I recognized belonged to my wife. She looked at me like I was an intruder with six heads, like I was some one she did not know or recognize or had any sympathy for. It was not the baking nor the banging that killed me. It was those looks, and the act of agression that followed. THAT nearly took my life.