Spiders are going to be the death of me. I’ve now had two very close encounters with them in the past two days. It’s like I’ve been marked or something.
First instance: yesterday. I was rushing to get ready for school, as I apparently have no concept of showering ahead of time. I dunno what it is about pajamas but I would be content to live in them for the rest of my life, so I like to spend as much time in them as possible. I suppose I could shower and then change back into them, but I think that’s just silly. Also, I’m a procrastinator and lazy, hence the showering an hour before I have to leave (I can actually get ready for school – shower, dress, makeup, hair – in 30 minutes or less depending on how coordinated I am that day, but I like to leave extra time to pack up my backpack, double and triple check that I have everything, and then just lollygag around). I’m a little later than usual getting in the shower, too, because I forgot that while my class starts at a certain time, my ride’s class starts half an hour earlier than mine. Why I have trouble grasping this in the middle of the term, I don’t know.
So I hurriedly jump in the shower, wet my hair, apply shampoo and am about to start rinsing when I look up and happen to see a HUMUNGOUS FUCKING SPIDER ON THE INSIDE OF THE SHOWER CURTAIN. I am frozen in fear as I scream, “OH MY GAWWWWWD!”
Of course, Jason has run out for a quick errand, so he isn’t available to take care of this problem. I swear, I am never showering without him in the house again.
In case you can’t tell by this point, I HATE spiders. I know they kill insects and stuff and so they are generally good but WHY do they have to LOOK LIKE THAT?!? Why can’t they look like tiny little puppies or kittens? Or a Pygmy Puff, like from Harry Potter? Or like Tribbles, from Star Trek? I would love spiders, then! I’d collect the little buggers and let them all live in my house. But they look like some seriously scary shit and there’s just something about that spider form that scares the ever-living fuck out of me.
So there I am, petrified, staring at this spider, trying to figure out what to do, AND IT STARTS CRAWLING TOWARDS ME.
I squash down my panic and bat at it. Not hard enough to knock it off the curtain, just enough so that it knows to not go any further in the direction that it is currently going. Fortunately, my crude communication attempt was successful, so it started crawling in the other direction. Deep breath, here. I quickly rinse the shampoo out of the my hair and, seeing that the spider is continuing in the opposite direction, I decide it would be safe to condition as well. So I quickly do that while the spider continues onward on the inside of the shower curtain. At that point, it has crawled up as well, so he crawls over the top of the shower curtain and starts crawling down the other side.
At this point, I decide it is no longer safe for me in the shower now that I can’t see where the spider is and whether or not it is coming toward me. I had washed my body the previous day and I hadn’t sweated or gotten dirty or anything, so I decide to forgo that part of my routine. If anyone wants to judge me for not washing my body for one day, you have two options: (1) you can go sodomize yourself repeatedly with a sharp stick, or (2) try and take a shower with one of your biggest fears in the shower with you and tell me how that works out for you. Something tells me you’d omit a step or two in your routine.
Thank God I didn’t have to shave my legs. I might have just ended up a hairy-legged woman shouting at people, “Don’t you judge my leg hair! There was a SPIDER in my shower.” And, I’m sorry, but avoiding certain death from Ebola AIDS* trumps having shaven legs every time.
I shut off the water and carefully pull aside the shower curtain, to avoid knocking the spider off, and quickly step out. Fortunately, the spider is in plain sight, so I fling the shower curtain so that the spider will fall into the tub. Now, my bathtub has some sort of drain problem. It does drain, but very, very, very slowly. So slowly that literally within seconds of entering the shower, you are standing in water. So the spider is now flailing about in the water that is slowly going down the drain and I’m keeping a careful eye on it to make sure it doesn’t cling to something and crawl out (I’ve taken the shower curtain out of the tub so it can’t crawl up it) and I go to dry off my face and my contact decides to come out with the slightest pressure.
So now I’m half-blind, trying to watch for a spider and dry off and get dressed and get ready for school all at the same time.
(It turns out, my contact didn’t fall out, it just decided to go for a little trip elsewhere in my eye. I put in another contact, went on my way to school, took a midterm, and came home, and about 11:30 or so that night it decided to make a reappearance. Let me tell you, having two contacts competing for dominance in one eye is not very comfortable)
Good news: so far, no sign of the bathroom spider.
Fast forward to today. I’m removing the last of the files that I want from my old computer. I’m operating on about three hours of sleep because I got bitten by the writing bug last night and decided to stay up all night writing (hey, no school until Monday, otherwise I would have told my inner muse to STFU, taken a Trazodone, and gone to bed). So there I am, transferring files to my jump drive when I feel a little tickle on my wrist. I look down and OMG THERE IS A FUCKING SPIDER ON MY HAND.
It was one of those white/clear tiny little fuckers, but size does not matter to me; spiders are spiders.
So I guess I might as well say goodbye now, as I will undoubtedly die of Ebola AIDS* because of the direct arachnoid contact.
*I should note that I did not come up with the term “Ebola AIDS”, I read it once or twice on Allie’s blog (I can't remember exactly where, or even if the post it was in was even related to spiders) and thought it had a nice ring to it and was also probably something that spiders would carry and infect you with, so there you go.