30 degrees Celsius outside, I’m walking home in a fast pace up a steep hill, and every time I stop to catch my breath, lots of wasps comes after me, which makes me nervous, so I increase my pace. The wasps follow, so I walk even faster. The last hundre meters, I’m walking with my eyes shut, because the sweat is pouring down my face. My eyebrows apprently doesn’t work. I’m more or less completely blind, but at least I know the last meteres home so I arrive at the door (after crashing into god knows what and who and how many times). Unlock the door, enter the house, and enters the alarm code.

Nope. Try it again. Nope. Open my eyes to see what I’m hitting, it is the correct code, but nothing. I try different codes. Nope, fuck you, buddy. I’m getting more and more frantic, trying to figure out why it won’t shut itself off, and then the alarm goes off. I go to find a phone to answer the security guards when they call, but on my way to the nearest phone (still blinded mind you), I crash into a cabinet door of glass. It barely hangs on on the bottom hinge, but I’m afraid if I leave it to answer the phone, it’ll crash to the floor. I can’t pick up the phone.

I hear my cell phone going off, it’s in the corridor, I can’t get to that. I hear a message coming in, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! I can’t do anything about it. I’m getting more and more furious. I’m blind, sweaty, tired, out of air, frustrated and starting to become really pissed off. I’m swearing and swearing, the alarm is howling and howling. Luckily my father came home. Apparently he heard the howling and the swearing  down the street and came to check it out. He turned off the alarm and saw me standing there with the door in my hands, dripping of sweat and cursing like a sailor.

In the end everything was okay, but damn, I’m still mad. At myself, the alarm, the wasps, and everything that happened after 4 PM. Also, according to the security guys, I apparently look like a kid suspect. Promising.

A bit miffed.