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F'ing OW!

I�ve really got nothing for you guys. The week has been pretty dull, with the exception of a shopping spree at PB. We had a few gift certificates leftover from our wedding, and since my husband insists on our home being cold and stark versus warm and cozy, there isn�t much by way of decoration we can purchase there. I know, gasp! Someone dare to hate on the PB! That �very PB� is used to sell real estate should indicate that we are in the minority when it comes to hating on the Barn. Anyhow, we ate dinner on the Plaza then strolled over to the only mass retailers on the Plaza (also the only stores open after 7:00 pm on a Wednesday night). I was on a mission as soon as we entered that store. I vowed that we would purchase something, anything, come hell or high water. Those gift certificates would be used! Luckily, they had some outdoor dinnerware on sale, and we were able to purchase eight place settings. No more Chinette for us! We�re high class now!

I just ate too much salad, and now my tummy is angry.

My ability to concentrate is small. I am actually being somewhat productive at work, but it is boring me greatly. I don�t know what I want to be doing rather than that which I am paid to do, but the desire to not be in the office is strong. However, the weather outside is frightful. Well, not quite yet, but the skies ARE cloudy all day.

Speaking of cloudy skies, it is about time they open up. I�m supposed to play sand volleyball tonight, and I don�t wanna! I don�t really remember agreeing to play, but what the hell. I like volleyball, however sand volleyball in Kansas City SUUUUUCKS.

Okay, I wrote all of that yesterday but then never posted. I suuuuuck. So I went and played sand volleyball last night, only the team we were supposed to play got so scared of our Powah that they dropped out of the league before they even had a chance to get their asses whooped by us. Booya! We decided to use our free time to hit the ball around the court a bit, however as soon as I stepped into the sand, a problem occurred. I felt a stinging shock of pain in my big toe and immediately began cursing the drunkard who dropped broken glass in the sand. Only as I lifted my throbbing toe out of the sand precariously balancing on my other foot, I saw no blood and no glass. Instead, I saw a bee straight freaking out as it was still stuck in my foot via its hypodermic needle sharp stinger. FUCKING OW!

Now hopping on my good foot, I tried to knock the bee off of my foot, but that fucker was in deep. A couple of tries later, I�d managed to dislodge it from the tender flesh of the cuticle of my big toe. My teammates and husband pay no attention to the freak on the side of the court jostling around and grabbing her foot. They are engaged in bumps, sets and spikes. Meanwhile, the bee twitches about in the sand while I twitch about beside it. Both of us are freaked out and weary from our encounter. Because no one has decided to pay attention to me and because I�m not smart enough to walk off the court and inspect my sting, I decide to �tough it out� at the back of the court. Only MOTHER FUCKER! Bee stings fucking hurt! My toe throbbing, I miss an easy dig that comes my way. I try to make excuses, yet no one cares. I keep trying to inspect my injury, however my toe is covered in sand, and it is freaking throbbbbbbbing. Yee-ow!

Finally, they get sick of bumping the ball around and we retreat to our free pitcher of PBR. I sit in a lovely plastic lawn chair and elevate my foot so I can get a good look at the tiny dot that is causing so much pain. After much inspection and much effort to clean the sand away, I confirm that it is a tiny dot causing a shit ton of pain. Ryan finally decides to ask me what�s going on, and I receive minimal pity for my pain. My teammates send their condolences as well, and one informs me that upon her last bee sting, she cried and wailed. Of course she was eight at the time, but somehow it makes me feel better. At least I didn�t cry. My toe is still swollen, throbbing and in pain, but luckily I�m not developing hives and my throat isn�t closing up. I guess I�m not allergic to bee stings. After a couple of minutes, I look back at my toe and it is sweating. How weird is that? Poor toe. It went through so much! It is still bitchy today, and in fact is a little itchy, but I guess that�s okay. Fucking bee.

After work, I load up the car with Paco and Jane�s kids and drive to Salina for the weekend. Of course I haven�t packed and have no clean clothes, but hey � its Salina. Should be a good time.

9:51 a.m. - June 10, 2005

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