I have a strained relationship with bugs – they like me but I don’t like them. If there’s a bug within 100 miles, it will find me. At times I feel there’s a conspiracy within the bug world to torture me. Let me give you an example.
Stephen and I were in Cancun, lying on the beach when a bee stung me. Stephen ran to the bar to get a shot of booze and while he was there he got one for me to use to extract the poison out of the wound. When the bartender heard what happened, he said “we don’t have bees in Cancun”. Yeah, right.
My latest debacle involves a scorpion. In fact, I’m sitting crossed legged (lotus position) in my desk chair to keep my feet off the floor because I’m afraid I’ll be stung. The other day, while working at my computer, I saw a creature with a long body whose rear end was curled up over its back. We (meaning Stephen) searched everywhere but was unable to find it. Wondering whether its inevitable, powerful sting would kill me, I Googled scorpions in Illinois. The species that live in Illinois are not deadly but are so rare they are hardly ever seen. Exactly like bees in Cancun.
To make matters worse, soon after the scorpion sighting, I found a wasp laying nearby on a rug trying its best to crawl over and sting me before it took its last dying breath. Although the wasp looked similar to the scorpion, I’m sure it’s simply a coincidence.
It’s been several days since my scorpion appeared, and frankly I’m tired of losing all feeling in my legs from keeping my feet off the floor. I don’t know how long scorpions live, but I’ll sit this way a few more days to be safe.
May the farce be with you!