I just realized that I have been watching The Office for three hours straight. That's right, I came home (early) from work, sat my ass on the sofa, and have been watching The Office ever since. Luckily, Heidi just called and tore me away from the television. So now I am indulging another addiction and that is you, dear Internets.
Heidi's boss gave her a gift certificate to a restaurant in the fancy new mall they built right next to our apartment. So that's where we're going for dinner. Because it's free. While there, I hope to engage in some trash talking of our friends and coworkers because that's what we do. Not really. Ok, maybe a little.
After work today, I had to stop and get gas (at the gas station, not at Taco Bell BWAHAA, thank you thank you, don't forget to tip your waitress). As I was standing at the pump, I opened the passenger side door to put my credit card away, which I heard you're not supposed to do in case your door like, I don't know, makes a spark and the entire city ignites in a fiery ball of . . . um . . . fire. Am I making this up? I don't know. Well, anyway, it turns out that ANOTHER reason you shouldn't open your door at the gas pump is that a BEE might fly in and start buzzing around the car interior all, "oooh, look at me . . . I'm a bee and I like flowers and ooooh, maybe there are some flowers in this car," well, there aren't, bee! Get out of my car now please!
I suppose I should mention that of all God's creatures, bees scare me the most. Even though I am a grown woman, a mature (heh) ADULT, if I see a bee I am still tempted to jump up and run away shrieking like a little girl. I used to be afraid to go to the amusement park because there are bees there and BEES STING YOU. Maybe some of you remember my bee episode from last spring? So, yes, I am scared of bees. Ok? Suck it. The next time you see a big, fat, hairy spider and want me to kill it for you I will just LAUGH. IN. YOUR. FACE.
Today, however, I gathered my courage to fight with this bee because you see . . . I knew I couldn't just stand there and wait for it to find the open door and fly far, far away because I really wanted to go home and watch The Office. And my desire to lust after John Krasinski far outweighs my fear of a tiny, insignificant little bee that might sting me and then call its bee friends and make fun of how easy I was to sting and, oh, also how I cried like, again, a little girl.
So, I took off my shoe, bracing myself to smack the shit out of that bee when, wouldn't you know it, that little bastard flew right out the open door. And it didn't even buzz my head! Sure, I got some weird looks for standing in the gas station parking lot holding one shoe in my hand while hopping on one foot, but I think I took an important step today.