Definitely do NOT give yourself enough time to make this deadline. The destination should be quite a ways away. Long, curvy, and dangerous country roads. Never make sure your gas tank is full. It should be hovering somewhere right above empty. It's not time to refuel unless your gas light is on right? Now heavily rely upon your gps to get you to unfamiliar places. In the country. With poor satilite reception. These maps shouldn't be updated either. Updating a Garmen GPS has to be too technical a feat to be accomplished. Right?
Anyways, focus on the task at hand. You're whipping around country curves with both hands white-knuckle gripped onto the steering wheel. Your eyes dart from left to right utterly paranoid that you'll miss your turn. Out of no where, bam! You hear a strange thud hit the door frame behind your head.
Something foreign has just flown into the car through the open window. You risk glancing around but see nothing. Frustration and anxiety are creeping in from all around because you still don't see the damn turn. It's then that you feel the strange tickling sensation IN YOUR HAIR.
Instant panic.
DO NOT SWERVE OFF THE ROAD.
You swat blindly at your tickling hair while you keep your eyes fixated on the road for fear of one false move. Never once does the option to slow down cross your mind. As the tickling stops your eyes glance down and spot the fat bumble bee now in your lap. IN YOUR LAP!
UTTER TERROR ENSUES!
You manage to maintain control of the wheel, but barely, as you attempt to rise up out of your seat to inch away from the fat insect stinger. Must. Remember. You. Are. The. Driver. The terror that the plump, pollen encrusted bug illicits is tangible. Your skin crawls. You can't remember if these are the bees that can sting multiple times before dying.
Finally you manage to flick the thing off your lap. Relief is short lived. Now you can't see it. If you thought you were terrified before... Well, now the danger is lurking unseen by your feet some where. Please get a grip. It's only a bee you will tell yourself. Do stings hurt more on the feet?...you contemplate. While forcing yourself to calm down take inventory of your surroundings. Check hands, hair, seat, lap and visible floorboards for the creature. You could relax when everything checks out but you don't want to rush into calm just yet. Suddenly something black and sinister crawls up over your knee. The damn thing is in your lap again.
Screaming you flick at your leg as if it were on fire. Most of you is hoping that you don't hurt the thing, because well, the world needs the bees but never in your life have you wanted anything away from you so badly.
Ok. It's gone.
No really. You've made it to the stop sign and you haven't killed yourself. Or the bee you guess. Strangely, it's nowhere in sight. You put the car in park and step out. Your legs are jello and your hands are a shaky sweaty mess.
Seriously, no bee. Every inch of the car checked. Even under the floor mats. Caffeinated fever dream? Coffe induced hallucination?
Get yourself all amped up with anxiety. I mean, evil bumble bees crawling all over your body, run away car anxious. Now try and find your way to a new destination while you're running out of gas and your GPS is on strike....
Definitely do not learn from history repeating.
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