So I decided to walk to the bank at lunch to deposit my massage money, and kept noticing this buzzing sound. What the hell is that? I kept stopping and checking my clothes for bugs, looking around to see if there was a Jackrabbit following me or something. I ambled into the Co-Op to get my fave sandwich there (turkey on toasted sourdough with avocado and no sprouts) and went to the ladies’ since I didn’t think I’d be able to hold it all the way back to the office when I looked into the mirror and beheld a bee, trying with all his might to hump the giant fake orange flower I have in my hair today. It was quite a sight. He was really going to town. I suppose my choice of hair accessory could indeed have been construed as bee porno, but I hadn’t thought of that this morning when I shoved my dirty hair into a bun and clipped the obnoxious thing onto it to hide said dirt. My bad hair day = huge bee tease.
But thank heavens that mystery was solved.