A bee flew into my shirt today and wedged itself beneath my bra strap. Because I’m not as smart as I pretend to be I didn’t know what was happening. Maybe something fell down my shirt. Maybe my boob was exploding. Maybe I would die. Maybe I would just look like an idiot standing on a busy street corner flailing about.

When I finally discovered the little bastard tucked into my bra, I flicked him out. A welt rose just beneath my collarbone and another formed a few inches lower. Can a bee sting twice? (Don’t ask the internet. Like most medically related questions you’ll be disappointed with the answer) As my previous advice states, I instantly knew I needed an onion. Seems like I forgot to bring my onion to work today. Oops.

My life is generally predictable. I get up, go to work, go for a walk, go to the gym (some days), go home. Repeat. Even as clumsy as I can be I don’t often get hurt. That little fucker and I reminded each other how quickly that can change, though I certainly came out ahead in this lesson.