On Friday afternoon, I’d came downstairs after a nap in preparation for my first Night Shift (We have a Job now – Yay!) and there was a Bee lying on it’s back on the windowsill in a patch of sunlight with it’s legs curled into it’s body – quite obviously dead. Throughout the afternoon, the Bee managed to resurrect itself and drunkenly dragged itself up to the little potted plant I keep on the windowsill – it couldn’t fly – and resumed it’s hardwired pollinating duties, despite the fact that it was broken and dying and buzzing quite sadly. It stayed on the flowers for a few hours before Boyfriend found it in the sink later in the evening. With no fancy gardens in the vicinity, I think it just wanted to be near some pink, pretty flowers as it died. I thought it was a quite sad but very beautiful testament to perseverance.