Then I took a pain pill because my throat hurt. Then I got paranoid because, twenty minutes later, I got all dizzy.
So I sat down and had a nice little chat with myself, which made everything better.
Until the bed sneezed.
I had just finished making it, laying the American Heritage (made in China) quilt over the comforter and hunting up some pillows for the guests I'm having this weekend, and it sneezed.
I looked over my shoulder at the perfectly flat, perfectly even bed. I make my beds *perfectly*. It's a leftover from my anxiety-ridden, OCD past and nursing school: you could bounce a Humvee off the bottom sheet if you wanted.
Staring at bed. Bed perfectly flat. Corners perfectly even.
And it sneezed again. An audible, ordinary "a-CHOO!" came from somewhere in the bed.
So I stood there for a minute, wondering if Sneezing Bed was a symptom of something I should be concerned about. I pondered what, exactly, would make a bed sneeze, as I use hypoallergenic mattress covers and pillows. I wondered if the bed could perhaps be allergic to cotton.
The bed sneezed a third time.
I quit pondering and started stripping. Under the quilt, under the comforter, under the top sheet, where I had not noticed him, was Notamus. Flat. Dozing off. Under all the blankets. Sneezing himself awake.
He's now on the couch, where I can see him. His brother is on *top* of the bed, on the outside of the quilt, curled up. They're both adorable.
For two minutes this morning I wondered if hallucinations came along with everything else, and why on earth I would be hallucinating sneezes.