It seems to me that in younger years my peers often had "things" that defined them. I knew a girl in high school that never ate the ends of food--french fries, sandwiches, and ice cream cones were all consumed until the very last bite and then hopelessly abandoned. Not eating the ends of foods was her "thing." Whatever.
I thought that as people grew up these silly defining "things" became less important to who they were.
Until I got stung by a bee last week.
I had never before been stung by a bee. At first I was legitimately hurt and confused. I was picking raspberries and didn't even see the bugger.
Then I was mad.
This bee totally ruined my "thing." Never being stung by a bee was one of the last pure and almost perfect records I held.
I have a dentist appointment coming up and I'm praying they don't find a cavity. If they do it's all downhill from here folks. Who am I anymore?
Plus, then I will be out two awesome distractors for "two truths and a lie."