1:10 a.m. - 2004-05-31
I overreact sometimes.
You know, I'm getting a little tired of the spider stories. But, I have to share them, mostly because they make me so angry and they also help me to deal with the reality that I think I have a tiny bit of a tendency to overreact to certain specific situations.
OK, so I had just finished a long, sleepy, half-sane email to Collin, upon return from my Kentucky wedding trip, which was great btw...when I was about to turn in, like dive straight under the covers for forever, when I decided that I really ought to brush my teeth and floss and take off my makeup etc. I was definitely not "rewarded" for doing the responsible thing. So, I wander sleepily into the bathroom, and go about my business, first using the toilet, which I do as I simultaneously floss...you know my whole efficiency thing...so I'm sitting upon the toilet, flossing when I notice movement out of the corner of my sleepy eye. I immediately spring into action tossing the floss somewhere, yanking up my drawers and grabbing the nearest thing that "sprays" which in this case happens to be shaving cream. I squirt, it fails, and the spider is on the run and he is FAST. Shit! Shit! (This is said in a hushed, urgent whisper, as I am mere feet away from sleeping housemates.) I chase the spider across the bathroom and ewventually trap it in a MOUNTAIN of foamy shaving cream. I breathe a sigh of relief that the vile creature has at least been stopped from running...I hate seeing them move...and then am suddenly overcome with arachnophobia, and am absolutely certain that my pajama pants, which have been laying on the floor for three days, since I've been gone are inhabited with another large spider. Off the pants come in a PANICKED flurry and are thrown emergency style into the bathtub. This is followed by a jumpy underwear dance that might have a song with it that goes something like "Ew! They're in my hair! Spiders are in my hair!" There is a lot of shaking and jumping. I calm down somewhat, retrieve and gingerly inspect and then don my pants, and check on Foamy Spider Death Mountain. I now notice, I have squirted gobs of shaving cream in quite a lot of places in the chasing process. (Now, I know that a lot of you are thinking things like "I cannot believe this person is/was my friend/my girlfriend/my roommate/my biblestudy leader/responsible for civic decisions in the city of seattle..." I know. Sometimes I can't believe how insane I am, either.) So I clean up the mess, but I have to clean it with toilet paper. There is nothing else in the bathroom and I am NOT about to leave the possibly still living spider alone...you've seen horror movies. You know what happens when the heroine THINKS the killer is dead....I'm not about to be THAT girl. SO I use wads of toilet paper to mop the foam off the floor.
When I'm done with that, I can't decide how to go about getting Foamy SPider Death Mountain into the toilet, which is the ONLY place for half dead spiders....so I decide to use my roomate's toothbrush (I know what you're thinking, but seriously, I would have used my own, but mine was back in my room, in my suitcase...poor planning on my part, all round..and I assure you, it was the handle end) So I squat over the foamy gob and start poking around for the spider. Megan Jerse, I hope you are appreciating this as I did your cockroach tale...This poking, prodding with only a seven inch long implement took tremendous courage on my part. I finally get him and take his limp, shaving cream covered body over to the toilet. I go to flick him off.....AND HE HOLDS ON! Ack! I flick again, and he starts RUNNING UP THE TOOTHBRUSH.
Friends, it was all I could do to not throw the toothbrush into the toilet. Somehow, I managed to turn on the hot water and throw the toothbrush into the sink when the spider was about an inch away from my trembling fingers. I turned the hot water up all the way and took great pelasure not only in rinsing him down the sink, but waiting for about five full minutes while a gushing stream of steaming hot water washed him away. No chance of survival. I plugged the drain for good measure, cleaned up the shaving cream, disinfected my roommate's toothbrush, finished my bedtime hygeine ritual and knew I had to share the story while it was still fresh. I was way too jumpy to try to go to bed anyway...I will now strip my bed of each piece of linen and examine them thoroughly for creatures and then go to sleep. Goodnight.
