Spidery Musings
I hate being ill. I find it boring. At least today.
Yesterday, I was on the couch watching the Olympics, as is my way, and felt something odd in my shirt. I thought a hair was tickling me. I found no hair. What I did find was a medium-sized brown spider.
If you know me, you know I'm very frightened of and allergic to spiders. I managed to scoop it out and throw it onto the floor. I just stared at it. It had curled up in a defensive position, all medium-sized and brown. I called out for the beau and said that I found a bug in my shirt. I was still stunned and out of breath, kinda close to hyperventilating.
The beau has lightning-fast reflexes. He has to living with me. I've gotten used to not having to kill anything if the beau is around. He came over and saw me staring at the spider. I was in denial that it was a spider, so I called it a "bug." He scooped it up and flushed it down the toilet. The beau said it was a beetle. I can tell his "I'm lying to spare you" voice, which verified the spideriness of the thing.
I continued to imagine how long the spider was in my shirt crawling around. I could swear, hours earlier, I felt a bite, but I had no mark to prove it.
I couldn't help but think that my spider encounter was meant to help me remember that even though something is terrifying to me, it doesn't mean I can't survive the encounter. It may have also been a reminder to shake out my couch blanket more carefully.
Yesterday, I was on the couch watching the Olympics, as is my way, and felt something odd in my shirt. I thought a hair was tickling me. I found no hair. What I did find was a medium-sized brown spider.
If you know me, you know I'm very frightened of and allergic to spiders. I managed to scoop it out and throw it onto the floor. I just stared at it. It had curled up in a defensive position, all medium-sized and brown. I called out for the beau and said that I found a bug in my shirt. I was still stunned and out of breath, kinda close to hyperventilating.
The beau has lightning-fast reflexes. He has to living with me. I've gotten used to not having to kill anything if the beau is around. He came over and saw me staring at the spider. I was in denial that it was a spider, so I called it a "bug." He scooped it up and flushed it down the toilet. The beau said it was a beetle. I can tell his "I'm lying to spare you" voice, which verified the spideriness of the thing.
I continued to imagine how long the spider was in my shirt crawling around. I could swear, hours earlier, I felt a bite, but I had no mark to prove it.
I couldn't help but think that my spider encounter was meant to help me remember that even though something is terrifying to me, it doesn't mean I can't survive the encounter. It may have also been a reminder to shake out my couch blanket more carefully.
posted by Cee in SF at 9:25 PM
3 Comments:
I awoke yesterday, looked in the mirror and was very annoyed to see two bright red little zits right next to each other on my forehead. Then I looked closer and realized they were actually bloody little bite marks. I'm not sure of the culprit, but I'm pretty sure spiders were somehow behind it all.
Eeeeooowww! Shake your blankets out, too.
Last night, I was convinced I had bedbugs and that they were biting me all night long. The beau got no rest and was none too pleased with me. And, again, I had no bite marks. I'm just a freak.
I swear I have come out in bite marks just reading that. Spiders = cold sweats and high pitched shrieking in this household.
Hate the way they curl up in a ball pretending to be all dead - and then pounce at you with their big teeth and hairy legs when you try to scoop them up and put them out humanely. I tell ya - hairspray is the way forward in spider destruction. Sticks all their legs together! Cruel, but effective.
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