Why is it that spiders present their most obnoxious selves when you're at your most vulnerable? (By 'your' I mean 'me', of course.)
Like: snuggled up in your bed with a book, and the spider crawls right down the center of the book. And when you jump out of bed and run for the kitchen (so the spider will have a chance to get out of your bed), you sit at the table to read your book (you didn't think I'd leave the book behind with the spider, did you? Please.) it then crawls out of your nightgown sleeve and onto your shoulder.
Like: getting up in the middle of the night and reaching around a corner to turn on the light and feeling something furry on the switch. Discovering, after turning on the light from the next room, that brown wolf spiders are actually furry.
Like: after getting undressed to get in the shower, noticing a spider up on the wall. Retrieving a chair so as to kill the spider and shower in peace. Missing the spider and jumping back in surprise when it falls down the wall. (Jumping back is not good when standing on a twisty chair.) Landing on the corner of the bathroom counter and developing a MASSIVE bruise on the back of your thigh that, over the next week, turns yellow AND green AND purple AND...
Like: stepping into the shower and turning under the water to see a good-sized black spider hanging out on the shower curtain next to your head. Somehow managing not to slip in the tub and smoosh the spider against the wall with a handful of shower curtain without pulling down the curtain, but definitely while getting water all over the bathroom.
Like: sitting on the toilet, and noticing something twitching on the sleeve of the robe you've just hung up across from you. Realizing it's legs. Big, long, relatively thick spider legs. Thinking all at once that a) those legs are indicative of the largest spider you haven't ever yet seen, b) you were just carrying that robe and the spider was either already on it or it was on you and moved to the robe ACK, and c) the toilet paper is a lot closer to the spider than you are. (Also, d) it doesn't matter how big the spider is, as this is not a Harry Potter movie you're still bigger than it is so why ARE people afraid of spiders, e) are you really starting to hyperventilate? Not good in a bathroom, considering, and f) flushing and washing your hands are either idiotic under the circumstances, or an attempt to conform to routine in order to control the nerves. And no, you don't get to DRY your hands since you're about to use the hand towel to try to smash/capture/suffocate the monster, since toilet paper is CLEARLY not going to be sufficient.) Grabbing the hand towel and a couple of deep breaths to stave off the shakes as you attempt to 'handle' the destroyer of dreams and happiness that has coyly tucked itself into the sleeve of your robe. (Seriously, the next class of spider larger than this one is a tarantula or a small car, and in England those are pretty much the same thing.) Lunging at the robe, wrapping it in the hand towel, and smashing the beejezus out of it. Tossing the towel and robe out the bathroom door into the hallway so as to have more room to maneuver when it comes crawling out for revenge. Shaking the towel and seeing the spider corpse fall out, and realizing that in order to have the beejezus smashed out of it it really did have to be big enough to have beejezus in it in the first place. (The crumpled-up body and legs were as big as my thumbnail, and JUICY.) Taking the next five minutes to stop shaking, and get my breathing back to normal.
* * * *
I've got plenty of other less-traumatic spider stories - there's a kind of medium-large dark spider that I think lives around my house that is being pushed inside by the construction in the back, at a guess. I've found them crawling on the floor, over my pillows, down the walls, on the stairs, over the kitchen counter, and once starting to build a web between the edge of the cabinet door and the stack of dinner plates (I did jump a little when opening THAT cupboard.) I've managed. That... thing the size of the devil today was new, though.
I'm OK now, though the nervous starts at whatever I see moving out of the corner of my eye are getting annoying. Seriously, WHY are we so put off by spiders? Especially here - they haven't got any poisonous spiders in England (I think - I know there aren't any poisonous snakes - thank you, St. Patrick) and a paper towel or flip-flop usually does the trick. (Or a spray bottle of cleaning bleach; there was one living in the corner of the living room a while back - same corner as the 'Jumanji' vines - that would scurry into the radiator when I came near it with a shoe or flyswatter. The bleach worked.) Realistically, I don't think they actually jump onto people, as if that would do anything. So WHAT is this fear all about?
Until I figure it out, though, I'm going to deep clean my house, particularly the bathroom, and write a letter to... somebody... about how the British STILL haven't figured out screens. And start pricing exterminators.
Now if only there were something I could do about the bees climbing up the inside of the bathroom sink drainpipe...
(Do I need to mention to anyone just how happy I am to be moving out in two weeks?)
(I did not add an illustrative picture to this post ON PURPOSE.)
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