Tempers Flare

The girls were an angry colony today as I stumbled around their home. A few weeks late on early Spring upkeep, I opened up the hive today to inspect what winter had left me. The hive seemed to have no problems over-wintering, the numbers were high, the hives were heavy with honey, and the girls were busy. I don't know how to gracefully snap open the boxes and frames, glued tightly together with propolis, sealed against the draft of winter winds. Every seal I broke with my hive tool made a loud snap which was followed by an even louder buzz of angry and invaded bees, and then a big cloud of bees around my head. There was just no way to be subtle. I felt big, clumsy and nervous, which made me fumble even more.
I was instructed by other bee keepers to check for brood in the bottom hive body, and if I found it empty, to switch the hive bodies and put the empty hive body on top. When I finally got the bodies separated, a feat in itself, the bees were nasty, mean and sick of my human company. The bottom body was full of bees, and they were irritable about the sudden exposure as I pulled the top body off. I was literally chased out of the bee yard.
The girls were too irritable today, and I couldn't do any hive cleaning or inspecting. Instead I had to return the top body on, and could do no better than placing it directly on the mad bees who covered the top of the bottom box, crushing many who crawled around the top rim. I felt nothing but frustrated and irritable myself as I quickly left the hive, bees smashing themselves against my bee suit.
Today was not a relaxing time at the hive, nor a time to feel one with nature. Today I was a big invader, clearly unwelcome, and obviously the enemy.
Dare I go back? On my way inside I even considered giving the girls a new home. When our mutual tempers relax, I will go back to try again.