Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"

Writing assignment beginning with the same sentence where no one knows what the other person wrote:
By Susan, Melissa, Doghouse. D.A., Misty Jo, Sue, Garvis and Jeff.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" This wasn't what I meant to do, where I meant to go or how I meant to get there. I didn't understand.It didn't make any sense! If I explained this to anyone, they would think I was nuts.. off my rocker."The Chick is Twisted", they would confirm to each other. Well I have never denied that, but come on, that didn't help me out at all. What have I gotten myself into? All I can do is ponder deeply and hope I figure out the answer by nightfall.Because once nightfall hits.. all bets are off.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" I knew showing up at this place was a mistake. I knew not listening to my instincts would get me into trouble. But I never expected … this! Whatever 'this' is. "What exactly are we watching?" I asked the guy standing next to me. We both tilted our heads to the left so we could keep up with the action. "Is he… was that… are they going to… that looked uncomfortable. Hey!" I turned my full attention to the man in blue in hopes of getting a response. "Are you going to answer my question?"

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" It was just a silly sore throat and if I didn't worry about that stuff so much I never would have thought of going to see the doctor in the first place, but I do, and here I am, so save your "I told you so"'s for later. Okay? You hear that Lisa? Wherever you are? No, you don’t, because you’re not here and even if you were here you never heard anything I said anyway so you wouldn’t be hearing this anyway, so just forget it. Can we do that? Probably not if you were really here because you’d be telling me you’re not going to be forgetting anything anytime soon while I thought about choking you. Maybe it was a good thing when she left. Anyway, I thought the doc would take a look down my throat with that little light thing, feel my neck, say “hmmm” and send the nurse down the hall for one of those throat swab things which would reassure me I was alright and then I’d be on my way, but here I was, alone in an open-backed examination gown with nothing on underneath and worst of all, my shoes and socks were keeping company with the rest of my clothes in a plastic bag hanging from a hook on the back of the exam room door. My feet were cold. My throat was still scratchy, although not really enough now to warrant a visit to the doc and Lisa was still pissing me off although the involuntary clenching of my hands had seemed to stop. Yeah, I know, and I don't want to talk about power either, okay?

Five minutes turned to ten and the anxiety over my scratchy throat was thankfully lost with the effort of trying to translate the Spanish language medical wall chart of sexually transmitted diseases which was hanging right next to the wall chart of diseases of the human spine. Unfortunately, neither of these efforts was enough to make me forget that I was sitting on a hard examination table in a cold examination room, naked underneath a gown I was unable to tie in the back. As I was listening to Lisa's voice tell me I'd just be getting dressed and leaving if I had any sense, but we both know that I don't have any sense which is why I'm still sitting here bare-assed like some type of idiot who can’t take care of himself the door opened. I turned to smile at the doc, more out of relief that he was actually here and was able to shut Lisa up than from any real sense of happiness to see him and finally get the show on the road, but saw two men in matching black suit coats entering the room instead. I was just thinking they looked exactly the same when the man on the left looked at me and said, “Are you ready, Mr. Sherman?” Sherman? Who the hell is Mr. Sherman? These guys must have me mixed up with some other guy in some other room and as I leaned forward to tell them they were in the wrong room, I bumped the glass of root beer the nurse had given me earlier and spilled it all over the bedside table. It was then that I noticed the slightly off color and odd smell of the drink, but it was too late to do anything because the two guys in the black suits were suddenly four and then a blurry and wiggly eight and then the room started spinning in front of me and the last thing I remember is dropping back down to the exam table.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"
The room was in disarray. The place looked like it had been ransacked, Cushions had been shredded, the cabinet drawers had been dumped with their contents strewn about the place. Even the curtains had been pulled down. Something odd was afoot. How did this happen?
The day had started innocently enough, I had gotten up at the usual time. Had a shower and poured myself a coffee. The birds were singing, the bees were buzzing. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful, ordinary day. The first clue that something would go amiss today occurred shortly after lunch. I was walking through the park when I was accosted by an old woman. Her hair was wild and unkempt, and she was wearing a flannel nightgown. "You're the focal point! The energies will focus around you!" And she started making these weird hand gestures towards me. I hurried away from her, she was obviously deranged!
As I walked home from work later that evening, a small army of squirrels and chipmunks were following me! I didn't believe it when I first noticed that mass of slowly moving rodents. But when I stopped, they all stopped. When I turned a corner, they turned a corner. I started to run; and I took many turns down unfamiliar streets. And the rodent army doggedly kept up pursuit. Finally, I saw my house. I made a mad dash for the door; lurched it open and slammed it. I looked out the peep-hole in the door, and all across my lawn I could see the squirrels and chipmunks (and even a couple of skunks) sitting in the lawn. Eerily staring at the door; they seemed to be swaying, almost as if caught up in some liturgical chant that I couldn't hear.
Shakily I turned to the living room and saw the chaos.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" I can not think of anything to write for this new assignment. I figured this time I could cheat and Google the first line and come up with a story already written. Then there is work and the pressure of working with someone who really want to retire so he is making my life miserable. The pressure has caused an even bigger problem since I am now faced with over eating. I have this rather large stain on my shirt from the drippings of the massive amounts of White Castles I must consume to compensate for the pressure. Now what do I do?. There is Shout, Zout, Tide to Go, Spray and Wash, Wisk, club soda, Clorox and I don't know where to turn. Which stain remover do I use? Should I spray and soak or should I rub it in?. Should I take my shirt off and try to remove the stain that way or just attempt to clean it while it is on my body. There is also the question of what to do with all the cardboard containers from the White Castles. Can they still be recycled with the tiny onion bits still clinging to the sides of the container? I don't know if I should carefully remove each onion bit before throwing the containers away. I'm really not sure if the containers should be collapsed prior to disposing them. It is a rough life and I have a headache but I don't know which pain reliever to use.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?" I joined this Yahoo group and they are MAKING me write stuff. You would think I was still in the dreaded high school composition class............

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"
I was locked out of my house, in my underwear, and it was raining. From inside the house I could hear the phone ringing. It was the phone call of a lifetime and I was unable to answer it. I scanned the surrounding neighborhood to see if anyone was viewing my current predicament. Satisfied that I was completely alone, I dashed from the front porch around the side of the house to attempt to climb in the side window. As I reached the window and struggled to push open the apparently locked window, my heart sunk as I saw the familiar red and blue strobe flashing lights. "How am I going to explain this one?" I thought to myself. As gracefully as I could - in my underwear, I composed myself and turned to face the police officer.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"
The walls were wet and slimy like the inside of a cave or a colon. Not that I had every been inside of a colon, in fact I had never actually been inside of a cave, but if I had been inside of either, I am certain this is what they would have felt like.I ran my hand over the walls feeling for a light switch. Once again I had never heard of a cave or a colon having a light switch, but having never been in either it was possible. Surprisingly the slime was not coming off of the walls. In fact my hand was not even getting wet from touching it. This was strange. And while I did not truly know what a cave or a colon felt like, I did know what strange felt like and this was most definitely it.I slapped the wall and watched in the low light as it wiggled like Jell-o. I also took in the rich sound the slap had made and that had echoed back. I wonder if these walls are edible? I stuck my face close and took a deep sniff trying to discern a flavor. Nothing. I stuck my tongue out tentatively, deciding whether to give the wall a lick or not. On the one hand it could taste like strawberry kiwi. On the other hand it could taste like colon... or lime.

Suddenly I looked around and asked myself, "What have I gotten into here?"
I'm no writer. I don't even pretend to be one. And now these folks want me to write? The only writing I've ever done was a little bit of erotic fiction but even that wasn't very good. Damn, now I've got to figure out what to write. And I have to do it on a deadline? I don't like pressure!!! What the hell am I going to write about? I need some inspiration!!! I wonder if I can find a few women to send me some pictures to provide me some inspiration. Oh wait...these folks might not like that type of writing. I'm in trouble now!!!!