Nights at sneezeville

Ah-ah-ah-aaatchhooooo!

And there. The last of the speck on the table has been cleared. It took 1,025 sneezes — smart, short ones, I might add — to clear a table top that is forever untidy. 

Not any more. 

It all began when autumn  (the weather, if you didn't know by now) came to town. And brought with it, pesky insects, thick smog, chills in the night ad of course, higher level of RSPM — in my case they should be USPM (being unrespirable for me and all).  

I knew autumn was here because my sneezes were indicators of it. 

At-choo.

This should be the 1,026th this night. I should know. I have been counting sneeze to try to get me to sleep. When I crossed 300 and sleep was still somewhere on the other side of dawn... I started working on the .... aah-aah-aah-tchoooo. 

One thousand and twenty seven.

Wait. Edit previous paragraph, first sentence. This should be the 1,326th this night (At that precise point of time it was that count)... I just wish... atchoo.

One thousand and twenty eight. 

Aah-atchooo.

One thousand and twenty nine.

Sneeze, blow, sniffle. Maybe it should be a competitive sport. Who sneezes the best. With 1,329 sneezes in a night, I think I have a pretty good mastery at the sport. If only the competition was in autumn... on and only those with dust allergies need apply. We don't want to make other people feel bad. Now do we? 

And on that note... aatchoo.