F*cking Bees

I had a wonderful weekend. There was the time-share presentation that ended in free trips, a house-warming party in Seattle complete with an impromptu dance party at 1am, yummy brunch the next morning, costume shopping, and an IKEA trip. And all I can think of is how much I HATE bees.

Why all the hatred? Well this morning I was attacked by two yellow-jackets. ATTACKED.

I actually got up early this morning to go to the gym before work. I was walking out to the car when I felt a stabbing pain by my knee. I thought it was just a spasm but I looked down and saw a giant bee on my knee. I swatted it away and started to walk toward the car when I realized how much it was hurting. I turned back to the house just as my mom was leaving for work. I was holding my knee and whimpering from the pain when she asked me what was wrong. Just as she finished asking another bee swooped in and bit my head. MY HEAD!

She swatted it away and we both ran for the door, fumbling with my keys I finally unlock th house and got inside. Too bad that wasn't safe either because the f*cking bee followed us inside. My brother was tasked to killing the bee while I holed up in the bathroom bawling my eyes out with pain. After the death of the bee we moved into the kitchen to hose of my head (cold water always helps), only to find the second bee was hiding out in the hood of my jacket. I renewed my screaming/crying and ran back to the bathroom stripping myself down to my workout top and pants on the way.

We think the second bee is dead but haven't found his carcass yet so I refuse to enter the kitchen until that happens. The upside to this mess is that I don't have to go to work. The downside is all the damn pain. My head feels like someone is driving a needle into it. And for those that know me, you understand how bad that is (I have a very low pain threshold and an irrational fear of needles).

I'm going to go curl up into a ball now and cry.