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.

Big day.

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.

Dammit.