Yesterday morning was not fun

Well well. Things are starting to move along quite quickly towards B-Day, and they really ramp up today when Jared officially moves back to Texas. We've got some closet organizing ahead of us, and a nursery to put together. The biggest closet in the apartment is in the 2nd bedroom, so with that back, things will start to get uncluttered here in a hurry (and Kami hates Clutter slightly less than she hates Sin). That said, we also have a closet off our balcony. There had been some boxes that I had always meant to take to recycling, but that I never remembered to do when I was in a position to do it. I only thought about it at work, in terms of "Hm. I really should have taken care of that." So, yesterday I decided to actually take care of it, so we could get into that outside closet.

I moved two of the boxes and knew something was wrong, but it was so quick and unexpected that it took me a precious few seconds to realize just what exactly it was. 50-100 yellowjackets (thanks to my knowledge of collegiate athletics and logos, I knew they looked like Georgia Tech's logo) swarmed in a collective, "Oh, no you didn't." I didn't even swear. I yelled out a guttural "AAARRRR," and ran back inside - leaving one crucial flip-flop under one of the boxes. And upon returning inside, I noticed my arm and ankle throbbing. Three bites within about a four inch radius of the outside of my ankle, three bites on my forearm within about three inches of each other, and two more bites further up my leg. Kami was freaking out as she is allergic, Gunther was running around in circles, and Angus - the Wise One - had run under the bed. It was a visual representation of insanity.

But still, there was work to be done, so I left with Jared. About 45 minutes later, I get a phone call from Kami where she's sobbing and says - through sobs - "Come home!" The last time she was pregnant and said something along those lines, it ended in an overnight hospital stay, so I immediately went into Panic Mode, and asked (screeched) what was wrong. The other 92 yellowjackets were coming through a gap in the bottom of the door, and she was trying to kill all of them. So we came right home and I duct-taped the door. The yellowjackets regrouped on my flip-flop and looked at me, plotting. I rapped my knuckles on the glass and screamed.

I took some Benadryl. Which means that I was not conscious when the movers came to get Jared's stuff. And even though I was vaguely aware that there were three guys in the living room moving boxes five to ten feet away from me, I could not physically open my eyes to do anything about it. When I did wake up, the world was turned at a 30-degree angle. It was weird. Amazingly, Kami did not get stung. Gunther and Angus did not get stung. Just me - which is probably how I'd prefer it.