Observation #21 - Forgetting Stuff

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21


If you’re anything like me (which I’m mostly sure you are, even if you’re not a bee), it’s very rare that you forget stuff, am I right? Anybody who knows me knows that when it comes to not forgetting to remind myself to remember a bunch of stuff, I’m without question the most reliable bee in entire Universe, mostly.

So imagine my surprise a week or two ago - I can’t remember how long ago it was, but does that matter? - I somehow let it slip my mind that I needed to remember not to forget a Very Important Birthday. Of course, that was a problem. It’s rare that I forget to remember to remind myself to not forget to remember something important, ya’ know? But I guess the really bad thing was that the Very Important Birthday I forgot to remember to remind myself not to forget was my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin’s, Birthday.

And he was pretty upset about the whole thing.

When I tried to explain that I couldn’t recall why I didn’t not forget to remember his Birthday, he didn’t beelieve me. I’m sure you see my problem.

“Uncle Georgie,” he said, when I showed up something like a week late with his Birthday Presents, “you’re the best uncle in the world, and I love you, but it is the Major Consensus around here that you’re beeginning to suffer some sort of Early Onset Beezheimer’s, and that you need to dedicate some serious effort in attaining a Reliable Diagnosis and pursue a rigorous plan for addressing your problem on an Effective Therapeutic Basis.”

“What?” I asked. I got the part about how he loves me and stuff, which I really do appreciate, but he kind of lost me with the rest of whatever it was he said.

“Uncle, you need to go see a doctor about your Memory Problem,” he said.

“What Memory Problem?” I asked, beecause I really wanted to know.

Kevin just rolled his Compound Eyes at me and walked away.

Great Grandma Gee Gee was standing there, listening to the whole thing, so I asked her, “What is he even talking about?”

“Dear,” she said. “I realise this may bee difficult to hear, but I’m afraid Kevin may bee right. It’s not like you to forget somebody’s Birthday, especially Kevin’s, so maybee you should take his Advice and make an appointment with Ph.Bee this week.”

“An appointment for what?” I asked.

“To have your Memory Problem checked out, dear,” she said.

“What Memory Problem?” I asked.

Then she just let out a soft buzz and said, “oh dear”, then went back to baking her delicious and highly satisfying HoneyChew Krisp™ Cookies.

Which reminds me: I’m out of those. I need to remember to not forget to put it on my List of Things To Do to get more of those, and I’m gonna do that just as soon as I find it. I know it’s around here somewhere.

And hey! Ya’ know what today is? I just realised that it’s Monday today, the Best Day of the Week! I’m so glad I didn’t forget to remember THAT. Proof that whoever tried to say that I have a Memory Problem is completely, utterly, 110%, and totally wrong, probably.


Okay then.

Let’s all remember to bee Highly Careful out there!

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Excuse the Brief Interruption...

Okay then. Yesterday, I was completely minding my own buzziness, 
mostly, when I got an unexpected note from my Editor (I guess 
he’s not on vacation, after all). The note said, “Bee in my Office 
first thing tomorrow Morning . . . OR ELSE!”

Oh geeeeze.

Anyway, I did that. I just got back from there, and let me tell you, 
if I would’ve known that he would’ve been in that kind of mood,
I would’ve waited until Monday, when the chances are better
that everybody would bee in a highly better mood. Even him.

When I walked in, he looked at me and said, “So?”
“So what?” I asked him.
“Don’t cop that attitude with me, bee,” he said. “You know
very well what I’m talking about.”



I didn’t, so I asked, “What?” I really wanted to know.

“It’s come to my attention that you have been largely absent
from your Duties at this Publication during this Hot Season.”
“Really?” I asked him, “I’m not sure that’s entirely true,” I told him.
“I’ve been here the entire time, and so far, nobody else has 
complained at all, probably.”

“WRONG, bee. We’ve had a LOT of complaints over the fact that
you don’t seem to want to bee bothered to offer your Beeloved
Readers your questionably valuable Insights on any sort of 
dependable basis. That is unacceptable. Your Job Performance
has been Highly Deficient, and I won’t have it!”

He kind of went on like that for awhile, accusing me of doing
nothing but laying around the entire Season and eating a bunch
of HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™ and beeing constiplated, then he 
said, “Listen up, bee: YOU will have your next Assignment on MY
DESK promptly at some point next week and have it ready for
publication... OR ELSE! Now get out of my Office!”

I really don’t like it when he gets like that, but there wasn’t much
I could say other than, “Fine.” I will say it was very nice getting
out of his Office and I really wished I could have left a lot sooner.
The whole experience just wasn’t pleasant. At all. 

Does anybody else think my Job Performance has been Highly 
Deficient? Yeah, I didn’t think so, either. 

Anyway, it looks like I’m gonna hafta’ spend the next few days
trying to figure out what the hell my next Assignment is (my
Editor wasn’t specific at all), so I should probably go do that.

Let’s all bee highly careful out there. 

Observation #20: Laxatives´┐╝

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So the other day, when I was visiting the Hive, I ran into Ultra Violet. I hadn’t seen her in a very long time. She had just gotten a new Digital Ukulele and was working on some new material she wants to share at this year’s End of the Hot Season Pollen Fest. The stuff she was playing made me want to dance, mostly, but I felt so unbeelievably sluggish, I could only sit there, tap my foot, and moan. 

When she noticed that I was not feeling myself, she asked, “What’s the matter, Georgie? Why aren’t you dancing?”
“I don’t feel all that well,” I told her.
“You do look awfully bloated,” she said. “What’s that all about?”
“I think I overdid it last night when I ate that quadruple batch of Great Grandma Gee Gee’s delicious and marginally nutritious Royal HoneyChew Krisp™ Cookies. They’re just too delicious to stop eating.”
“Yes, they are,” she agreed, “but I think I have something here that will help you out.” Then she handed me a little, plastic vial of some sort of clear liquid.
“What is it?” I had to know.
“It’s a Laxative. I’m sure that will solve your problem. Just go back to your Shoe Box, set aside a few hours when you won’t bee disturbed, and drink this with exactly 87 acorn caps full of Diluted Nectar. You’ll bee feeling better in no time, probably.”

So I did that. And while I was sitting there, I noticed I suddenly felt Inspired. I decided the best thing to do would bee add to my Body of Literary Work by penning another Insightfully Observational Poem. I call it…

“The Fountainhead”

Oh Bloatation, bloating bloatativity,
you make me feel all bloated and fat,
and I’m just not sure how to deal with that.
But Hark! 
A Laxative this way comes!
I choke its tangy liquid down
and then I wait, but not for long,
for soon bursts forth a gurgling sound,
bursting forth and bursting forth,
and bursting forth until I say,
“This is how I’ll spend my day”.

-g.bee, 2018

I hafta say that I’m feeling much better today, especially since it’s Monday which I know we all agree is the Best Day of the Week. I’m thinking that there’s no better way to celebrate a Monday than to enjoy a nice batch of Royal HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™. So I’m gonna go get some. And also maybee some more of that Laxative, just in case.

Until I return, then . . .

Let’s all bee highly careful out there!


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Observation #19: Unsolicited Opinions


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As I’m sure everybody already knows, I am an amazingly accomplished Poet. For a long time now, I’ve been offering my special brand of Astute Poetic Ponderings to almost dozens of mostly Adoring Fans in Hives around the World, giving them a Glimpse inside the True Romantic that is me, Georgie Bee.

Well, the other day, I decided to share my Latest Poetic Masterpiece with the Hive here. I made sure I had a highly visible copy of it, then I pinned it up on the Hive’s “NEWS, INFORMATION, and LOST & FOUND” Bulletin Board, then I just stood back to bask in the Joy as I watched the Raw Emotions sweep over the faces of my Adoring Fans as they’d read it.

I think I was standing there for about two hours and 17 minutes beefore some bee (I dunno who he is) finally stopped and, after he read some Ad for someone trying to find the owner of a pair of Misplaced Argyle Antennae Cozies, he spotted my Poem.

I was so excited as I watched his face take on an expression of Utter Amazement. Finally, he buzzed for some of his buddies to come hear what I had so generously shared.

“Hey, guys!” he said. “Ya’ gotta hear this. You won’t beelieve it.” So they came over to the Bulletin Board and stood there while he started reading my Poem out loud:

An Ode to a New Morning

Oh, flowers, with your Blossomy Blooms,
and Polleny Nectar that’s sweet as the Moon
light shining on the curve of my Spoon,
how I wish you weren’t gone so soon.
And when you fade, 
I pull my Shade
and in secret delight
eat the Casserole I made
from your pollen
in the dim light of the day
when I hear the Night Bird calling:
“Ka-ree, ka-ree,” says the Bird,
though I don’t understand a word
of what he’s saying or why,
which makes me want to cry, 
tears falling from my Compound Eyes
like Stones,
so oft I say as I dally,
‘I think we are in Vorroa Mite’s Alley,
where the Dead Bees lost their bones. 
But No! No!' I say. ‘Rejoice! Rejoice!
The New Morning’s Sun
will soon bee Hois-ted!’

- g.bee 2018”

“Who IS this Georgie Bee?” I heard him ask. I was surprised when nobody seemed to know who I was, so I walked up, tapped him on his wing and introduced myself, “Me. I am Georgie Bee.” I told him. “THE Georgie Bee,” I added, knowing he was finally meeting the Actual, Real Me.

“So you wrote this?” he asked.

“Yes, I did,” I said proudly.

“Well, pardon me for saying so, but it just sucks. It is truly horrible. I think this is perhaps the worst attempt at Poetry I have ever had the grave misfortune of encountering in my lifetime. I think I’d rather have my wings slowly pulled off than to listen to stuff like this. Were you actually serious when you wrote this?”

For some reason, the other bees seemed to agree with him.

Geeeeeeeze. What was I supposed to say to that?

Instead of saying anything back to that Rude Bee, I pointed my left wing toward the Queen’s Chambers and buzzed really loudly, “WOAH! Look at THAT!” When they all turned around to look at what was going on, I left. Really fast.

Has anybody else run into something like this - somebody deciding they needed to give you their Opinion about something when you didn’t even ask for it at all? How rude is that? Seriously now. Don’t ya’ think that kind of Opinion Sharing is entirely unnecessary? I do.

Anyway, after I got home, I decided to spend a bunch of time by myself hiding inside that little hole that’s just next to my Shoe Box, thinking, and after Careful Consideration of that highly rude Unsolicited Opinion Episode, I’ve decided that I’m going to work even harder to write even more Poetry. Then I’m going to post it on the Hive Bulletin Board with a note that says, “Sorry, No Unsolicited Opinions Allowed Unless They’re Nice”. I am absolutely, positively sure that, one of these days, that Very Rude Bee will bee buzzing out of the other side of his face.

Probably.

As soon as I’m ready to publish more Inspiring Verse, I’ll letcha’ know. Until then . . .

Let’s all bee highly careful out there!

GeorgieBee Signature

A Note to my Beeps and Adoring Fans:

I just need to say that, apparently, SOME of my Beeps aren’t doing a very good job of understanding my point about Unsolicited Opinions. I say that, beecause it has been pointed out to me that maybee a few things in my Poetic Masterpiece may not bee completely accurate. While it’s true that we bees do not have bones, and that we also don’t have tear ducts, I remain mostly confident that most of my Adoring Fans, unlike the unnamed critic to whom I refer, are not only highly intelligent, but they understand what Artistic Licence is. Seriously now.

Observation #18: the New Hot Season & Mondays

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So I woke up this morning and after about three acorn caps full of my Morning Nectar, I realised that today is the First Day of the New Hot Season! I’m pretty sure just about everybody else was asking themselves the exact, same important question I was asking myself this morning: How many Mondays are we going to get to enjoy in this Hot Season?

I couldn’t find my Calendar anywhere, so I figured the only way to get a precisely correct and necessary answer to that question was to turn to a mostly-reliable Authority. Of course, we all know that had to bee my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin’s, Robotic iBee, Bert. So after I managed to straighten out my left Antenna (I slept on it funny last night), I buzzed over to his Boot Box.

“Happiest of Happy First Day of the New Hot Season, uncle,” Kevin said when I got there. “My schedule seriously cannot accommodate any Surprise Visits today, and even though I think you’re the best uncle in the world, and I love you, this Unexpected Intrusion had better bee Highly Important.”

“It is,” I told him. “It is Imperative that I speak with Bert. I am in serious need of some Reliable Information, and I know he is the only source I can completely trust, probably.”

“Fine,” Kevin said, then he disappeared into his Work Space and after about five minutes, he returned carrying Bert’s head (he still hasn’t gotten around to fully reassembling Bert yet).

“So ask your question, then please leave,” Kevin told me.

So I did that. I asked Bert, “Bert? How many Mondays will we bee enjoying in this New Hot Season?”

Bert’s head clicked and buzzed for a few seconds, then he finally spoke.

“Today is Thursday, June 21, 2018. The local time is 10:14 and 36…37…38 seconds and counting. The Outdoor Air Temperature is a balmy 293.3722 Degrees Kelvin, and at least two out of the three of us have better things to do today than to hang around answering Suspicious Questions. However, since it seems I have no choice but to address your Query, according to my Infinitely Accurate Calculations, there will be precisely 13 Mondays in this, the New Hot Season.”

“Satisfied, uncle?” Kevin asked.

“Not really. That doesn’t seem like very many Mondays to me,” I told him.

“Not my problem,” Kevin told me, then he told me to leave, go back to my Shoe Box, and let him get on with his Day.

So I did that.

I’m sure we’ll all agree that 13 Mondays is not very many Mondays, is it? And I’m sure I’m not alone when I say that I wish we had more than that. In fact, if you ask me, I think we’re getting Short-Changed on Mondays. Everybody knows there are 53 Mondays in all the four Seasons put together - and this Hot Season, we’re only getting 13 of those. That leaves something like 40 Mondays we’re NOT gonna enjoy this Hot Season. Is that even fair?

I don’t think so.

And worse than all that is the fact that we’re all gonna hafta wait four more days (counting today) beefore it’s finally Monday again. Seriously now. What the hell are we supposed to do beetween now and then? I need to know.

I think I’m gonna spend the rest of my day thinking about that. If I manage to come up with any bright ideas about what to do with Non-Monday Days - especially when they involve a Saturday and a Sunday - I’ll letcha know. Until then . . .

Let’s all bee highly careful out there!

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