I woke up at 6.02am this morning due to a very very loud sound that appeared to buzz for a long time and then thud. Buzzzzzzzz, thud. Buzzzzzz, thud. Like someone falling over while trying to press an intercom. After the last few days of being awoken by the sounds of scaffolding being removed and yesterday some mean bastard mowing their lawn or drilling or playing a CD of mowing and drilling noises, I assumed this noise was a further attempt to render my sleep patterns into an erratic dance of weariness. So, slowly checking the time, and sitting up I decided to see what was causing such a sound, and lifting up the blind, saw a bee that was the size of a small country. Ok, a very very small country. A bee sized small country. Now, I will stop my blog here to point out that there is every chance this could become the most boring blog I've ever written. 'Oh no' I hear you say 'a bee in your bedroom, how unusual. Sigh.' Of course I'm hoping you said that sarcastically. If you didn't, then I feel you are perhaps too easily amazed by simple things. If this is you, however, then at least look on the bright side that with such shock at simple life matters it can only be a matter of time before you are playing the O2 doing observational comedy pointing such things out. Ouch. That was unnecessary, sorry. Anyway, as I was typing, the reason I'm telling you about the insectoid intruder is because it makes no sense how it got into the room. The windows were closed, the door was closed, there were no visable bee sized holes in the wall. No dodgy beekeepers lurking around just letting a few bees free in different people's flats. I wasn't sleeping on a bee farm or in Kew Gardens or anywhere bees might frequent on a Saturday night out.
So how on earth did it get in? This is one of those moments in life that I think happen to see if the human mind can handle the madness. Its similar to the time I had a tiny spider on my hand that suddenly crawled up its web into the sky. I was in an open area of land, no buildings or trees in sight, yet the arachnoid bastard just kept climbing up. It mocked me with its eight legs and eyes as though to say 'yeah I'm just gonna climb into space. Deal with that.' Similarly the time myself and Mat were sitting in his parents garden with a few beers watching two snails on a wall. We made a joke comment about how when you are not looking at snails they move very fast. We laughed. Put our beers down for a second, looked up and the snails had vanished. Bafflement ensued. A small snail search was carried out, but they had indeed, just vanished. And now this. Now a bee that can somehow travel through walls, or teleport. Perhaps all the minibeasts have a hilarious injoke whereby they take it in turns to mess with our minds, knowing they are small enough to get away with such things. Maybe bees aren't actually dying out and instead they have used that as a rouse in order to appear unexpectedly, confusing humans for all the years we've nicked their honey, which they had been saving for a big time honey party. Or maybe they are still angry we didn't give them credit for inventing a letter of the alphabet. Or the word that means when media has an interest in something - buzz. Well, if you are a minibeast and reading this, please stop. Please bee-hive yourselves. Ha. Thanks very much.
The bee was unable to get back out of the window, hence the thud sound, so its clear their clever teleporting devices aren't yet honed. I stuck a glass over it like a tiny transparent prison and lobbed its furry stingy self out of the window like a pro.
Hmm. Reading that back, I honestly can't believe that's what I've written about today. I could have told you about drinking last night and the much fun chat, could've moaned about the ash cloud and how it should be a symbol for elderly people that its still so active at such an old age, or I could've at least given you my ideas about how Ed and David should run the Labour Party together as the Milliband of Brothers. But I didn't. Sorry about that. Blame the bees. Not the band by the same name, that would unfair. Especially as they are quite good and it'd be really really weird if they were in my room at 6am thudding into the window. I must stop writing now. This has all got too silly.