It all started with a bee.
Bees are very interesting creatures from afar. I like them if they stick to their flowers and buzz around at a safe distance.
Unfortunately, this one decided to make a bee-line for my face when I opened the door to walk out of my house. It startled me so much I went into fight or flight mode, ultimately choosing to flee the scene as quickly as possible.
I spun around, intending to retreat back into the house, only to trip on some unknown object. (Probably my feet, or some other limb attached to my own body.) I made some wild steps to compensate, and landed firmly on a throw rug gracing the floor of my dining room.
I like my dining room. And my throw rug. I’m proud of the fact that my house looks like someone reasonably domestic and organized lives in it. However, if you know anything about throw rugs, they aren’t particularly attached to the floor.
This one decided it didn’t like its current location and wished to be elsewhere. And so, as I landed rather too-firmly upon it, it rapidly slid –launching me full sail across the room.
Now, if there had been a wall to great me, I may have simply smashed into it, ending my journey and my alarming (and somewhat confusing?) tale. However, things were much worse than that. For in that precise location across this particular dining room exists the entry way to the bathroom.
And it was into this bathroom that I was launched. By the throw rug. Face first.
Shins and legs met toilet. Shoulders, arms, and elbows connected with the hard edge of sink. I landed spread eagle, my head coming down unceremoniously to great the hard tile of my bathtub.
There I stayed a few moments, mentally working through what had just happened. (Mind you, most of this happened in the span of a few seconds.) There was blood. And quite a bit of missing skin. But I cataloged nothing seriously broken.
Meanwhile, the bee was checking out the furnishings in the nearby room, landing on the table, and inspecting a chair…I’d like to say that I maturely and bravely got up to deal with it as any adult would.
Instead, I slammed the bathroom door shut, preferring to plot out my next move in seclusion. Unfortunately, there are no warp core stabs in real life.
I have hidden in my bathroom a few times over the years for a variety of reasons. Once I fit my entire mattress in there to wait out a tornado warning. (Looking back I have no idea how I got that through the bathroom door…) But I can’t say as if I’ve sat in there to plot revenge on a bug before.
Eventually I peered out carefully, looking both ways. I finally found the bee in the kitchen, walking along the screen door that leads out back. It was so oblivious and unconcerned...
With a surge of courage I slammed the main door shut, trapping the bee between the screen and the wood.
And there it will stay. To cook. In the hot, hot sun.
For those looking for a moral to the story, or some connection to EVE Online, I’m not sure there is one. I'm not sure there is any purpose to this story whatsoever. Except maybe to warn you all that anything I say or do over the next few days is coming from a girl who feel like she was hit by a bus.
Funny read. It sounds like you inadvertently took gate gun fire but lived to tell about it:-) Now you have the poor bee scrammed and webbed ...ReplyDelete
Offline harassment by goon sympathizers! Call your lawyers!ReplyDelete
the moral of the story is the goons will eventually lose, burning and trapped. mittens don't let the door hit you on the way out.ReplyDelete