Hijack from Lauren

So for those of you who know me well, you know that strange things happen to me that don't normally happen to other people. Like the fact that I am a magnet for all flying objects, no matter where they are aimed or how far away I am from them. Well, today, the second coldest day of the semester (so far, and the coldest was yesterday), when it was 50 degrees or less outside, I got stung by a bee. A yellow jacket, to be precise. I walked into World Lit from the ridiculously cold and strong wind, took off my jacket, grabbed it by the collar to put on the back of my chair, and immediately felt a sharp numbing/stinging pain on the middle finger of my right hand. I dropped my jacket, thinking I had just been shocked, and looked down at my hand while shaking it, realizing in a panic that there was something on my hand. I flung the offending yellow jacket on the ground and stomped on it madly. All the while with headphones in, blasting Mumford & Sons, in front of my Lit class. It was really great. I got excused from class (by the way, on the one day of the semester when we actually weren't going to do anything, we were going to watch a movie), and went to the Foy Desk in the Student Center. Which, if you don't know anything about the Foy tradition, you're supposed to be able to ask them any question and they're supposed to be able to find you the answer. The RIGHT answer. I asked the girl working what I could do on campus about a bee sting. I thought she might tell me to put mustard on it, or tell me about a drug I could buy in the C-Store, but she told me to go to the med clinic. AND THEN GAVE ME WRONG DIRECTIONS TO THE MED CLINIC. So I walked around one area of campus for about forty minutes before finding the med clinic, and then being told that I wasn't having an allergic reaction and I could wait an hour and a half for an appointment. No thank you. So I walked outside, broke down for the second time (I started crying after the twenty-five minute walk to where the chick told me to go brought me no where), and called my parents. They gave me good advice (thank you), and then I started the long trek back across campus. Remember all this time that my fingers are throbbing. Because as my wonderful mother explained, your fingers are sympathetic, meaning that pain in one means pain in all the others, basically. So yeah I had a wonderful afternoon. Mustard helps bee stings, by the way. Oh, and since I now have a band-aid on the top of my middle finger and it's still throbbing, whenever I pick something up with my right hand I feel like I'm flicking people off. I'm not complaining, I promise, I find it all rather funny (now). Actually, this morning I had been dreading going to orchestra rehearsal because I really needed to study and yet I also really needed to practice. So I guess this is God's way of getting me out of rehearsal with a friendly painful reminder that I wouldn't dread rehearsal so much if I would just get of the couch and go practice.