I have worked my ass off all day packing and going through files that brought back a lot of painful memories.
Divorce. Forclosure. Accident. Dad’s will.
A lot of tears.
Around 9 pm I finally stopped. I dished up a big bowl of pistachio ice cream with chocolate syrup, grabbed the nail polish, and settled in to do a bit of binge-watching.
I deserved it. I worked hard today. On all levels.
Time to relax.
Maybe if I do, I’ll be able to sleep tonight.
That would be novel.
I sat in the recliner until I had melted into it just like butter.
Now, time for bed.
I turned off the light in the kitchen and as I grabbed my water glass to head upstairs I was suddenly crippled by what felt like a hot knife stabbing into my pinkie toe.
On the floor. Not quite screaming, “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!?!?!?!?!?”
All I could think about was the glass that I broke today. But wait, I did that outside.
I crawled into the bathroom because I figured that would be the easiest place for someone to clean up after I bled out and died.
Except there was no blood.
The pain began to seriously amp up. I was beginning to hyperventilate and get dizzy. Nauseous. Wobbly.
Do I call TAM? Do I call an ambulance?
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO MY FOOT?????????????
I grabbed the hand mirror out from under the sink so I could get a look at the underside of my foot, and crawled back out to the couch and bright light.
I stopped at the kitchen sink to run cold water on my little toe for a few minutes. It relieved the pain while the water was running but I couldn’t do that all night.
It instantly exploded in excruciating agony.
I sat down with the mirror, looked, studied, and found the answer…
I got stung by a wasp.
Inside. At night. On the kitchen floor. In my pj’s. On my way to bed.
Now, my entire body is tingling, my foot itches, and it’s swelling. And burning.
And I’m wide awake.