glumshoe:

If you would like to know how my day has been, imagine that you’re driving on the interstate at 80 miles per hour, sandwiched between semi trucks hurtling along faster than you are. Suddenly you feel a tickle on your neck and realize that it’s a wasp, blown in through your open window and crawling along your collar. You don’t move. Your speakers are blasting Queen, and they’re too loud, but if you move your arm the wasp might be pressed against your skin and sting. You’re not afraid of the pain but you are afraid that the shock of it will cause you to lose control of the car. The wasp crawls up your neck and onto your face and under your glasses and now you’re afraid of the pain and you have to drive like that, perfectly still, while the wasp tries to climb over your eyelashes. THIS THING. CALLED LOVE. Very, very slowly, you roll your window down further, hoping the change in air pressure will dislodge it, but the wasp only clamps down harder on your eyelid and oh god it tickles. There’s nowhere to pull over—you’d have to change lanes. I JUST. CAN’T HANDLE IT. Finally you reach up toward your eye and gently coax the wasp onto your fingers. It clings to them tightly, smelling your skin, before you fling it as hard as you can out the window.

THAT WAS A LOT OF ADRENALINE I DID NOT NEED.