A possum held me hostage once

I always said that would be the name of my autobiography. Not that my life is interesting enough to warrant an entire book. Just a self-absorbed, stream of consciousness, random-ass blog ... Right?

Anyway, it's true. A possum held me hostage once. My college boyfriend ended up in the ER late night, which was basically my fault. I came back to his then-empty fraternity house to get his wallet (the doctors wouldn't release him without an insurance card) and when I tried to leave, there it was. A possum. Sitting on the front porch. Staring me down. Refusing to let me leave. Threatening my life. My arch nemesis, my biggest fear, looking me right in the eye. 

Ok, that story isn't really exciting. The headline is much better, I'll keep working on the autobiography.