My morning routine is fairly consistent these days: wake up, stumble to the bathroom, pee, wander to the kitchen, start the water for my tea, walk to where-ever I left my laptop, read twitter or close firefox tabs until the kettle sings, head back into the kitchen and dump four cups of water into my pyrex measuring cup with 2 teaspoons of tea, go back to my laptop, twitter or work for another ten minutes, meander back into the kitchen for my tea.
Yeah, there's a bit about that tea. It's always a variation of white tea both so that I minimize the caffeine intake and because I prefer the flavor. I'm not sure, though, that the morning ritual is more about the tea itself or the warm cup in my hands and the hot liquid going down my throat.
This morning, I was making tea, like most mornings, when I felt my necklace slide down my neck. It does this frequently enough, catching on the faint hairs on my neck before rolling down my neck a couple centimeters or so, that I don't think about it much.
This morning, however, it kept sliding. I thought this odd, so I reached up to figure out what was wrong with it.
And grabbed the bee walking on my neck.
There was the briefest of confusion, but when I realized what I had in my hand, I threw it.
Aaaaaaaand, then ran out of the kitchen screaming like a little girl.
My screams turned into sobs, which confused the hell out of Kris.
"Did you burn yourself?"
"Did you cut yourself?"
"I scared myself."
"Well, you scared me, too."
He then asked if there was a big bug for him to kill, because if I wasn't burnt and I wasn't cut, but I was screaming like a little girl, yeah, it had to be a big bug.
Yeah, a big bug. A big bug WALKING ON ME.
After my sobs subsided, I did what I usually do in cases like this.
I took a picture, then blogged about it.
Wondering if I should change the name of this blog to "My Catharsis."