The Crazies

I have lately been afflicted by an experience I call “The Crazies”. As in, weird and crazy things keep happening to me or I am put in a situation which somehow ends up with me looking nuttier than usual.

Take for instance, my most recent gardening experience. I grabbed my secateurs and gloves and set up shop right next to our busy road and directly in front of a bees nest. I was about three seconds into pruning, when the bees took a liking to the scent of my shampoo, and began to swarm my head. It was like a scene out of a movie. I was shaking my head like mad, batting at the air, and turning in circles. Then there was the screaming. The neighbors and anyone else driving by got a real show that day.
Speaking of shows, Michael and I went to see Transformers this weekend. DO NOT SEE THIS MOVIE. It was horrible. I will never get those two hours back. Having said that, we did not actually stay for the full two hours. Minutes before the movie was about to end, the power in the theater, and indeed the entire mall, went out. You have not experienced crazy until you are trapped in a mall with dim lighting and 3,246 thirteen year olds with no adult supervision. I parked myself next to a bank of windows and watched the lightning and thunder rage while panicked security guards tried to close down an adolescent filled facility. That alone was worth the price of admission, even if I didn’t get to see the ending of the movie.
Then there was the near panic moment I had when chased by an errant Lhasa Apso while running. I didn’t hear him approach, until he was right up there in my face, or more accurately my shins. I let out a shriek that was more worthy of a German Shepherd. As I gathered my wits about me, I look up to see the owner standing in the yard, shaking with laughter. And once again I look crazy.
Kimberly

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