Waking Up on the Wr--- No, that's not it

My brother is a workaholic. He gets started on a project, he's willing to do overtime and work during holidays just to get the job done as quickly as possible. I used to often tell him that with his work habits plus with him being a smoker he's gonna get sick sooner or later. But I knew my words are just in vain, the asshat never ever gets sick anyway.

Fastforward to this weekend and I was pretty surprised when the front door opened and the big mass of fat stealthily wobbled his way (oxymoron, I know) into the house. Well okay, he's not really that big but it's been the running joke. I was like, "What on earth are you doing here?" He said, "What? 'Cause I want to!"

Okay then, so he got himself some things to eat. Went to my room to watch TV then had the gall to sleep on my bed. And knowing how tired he was, I'm pretty sure he's gonna be sleeping for 12 or more hours and there's nothing I can do to make him budge and get him and his fat ass to his own room.

So when it was my time to go to sleep, I had no choice but to share the bed with him. (Sigh.) One annoying thing about me, I can't sleep anywhere else but in my room and in my bed. You can't make me sleep in somebody else's house. If I want to sleep, it has to be in my bed, in my room, in my house. No wonder I don't like camping and sleepovers. Tsk.

I made him move to one side of the bed, took back my pillows he had been shamelessly using, and managed to squeeze myself in my other half. And being an insomniac, it took me a while to fall asleep. Not helped either by the fact that the person next to me was snoring like a mad truck. But eventually and (thankfully) I did fall asleep and was off to dreamland.

Eight hours later I woke up. My brother's still snoring. And I was on the floor.