We made it home unharmed. When I got into the kitchen, I found a wasp on the netting by the kitchen window. It was buzzing about quietly, and although I briefly entertained some murderous thoughts, mainly consisting of entrapment between my double windows and death by starvation, I decided to let the insect live.
Later on, as I went to get a snack, the wasp was eating the sugar off my countertop where I had cut up some melon. I put my African violets in a water bath in the sink, and went back to the living room.
An hour later, the wasp had drowned in the water bath. And, inexplicably, I felt sad. I let it go down the drain and watched as its little wings fluttered in the water current, and wished that it hadn't died. As if, by allowing it to live, I had somehow bonded to it.
And I am not on any hormonal treatment either.
Life is weird.