Currently it is 88 degrees Fahrenheit in our house, and has been for the majority of this week. Estimated date that our new air conditioner will be installed and working: tomorrow, if all goes according to planned. But when does that ever happen, right?
I’m not complaining, I’m just saying. Ok maybe I’m complaining a little. I know it could be worse. It could be like 98 degrees (and rising) in here and reek of cheese. Pun intended. So while I’m shvitzing away, I’ve thought about removing the food (who needs cold milk or edible sandwich meat?) and the shelves from the refrigerator, then making that small space my own lair of coolness. I can fit. I can make it work. And I will only come out for potty breaks. But before I can start that project I have to finish this post. Just be warned that I’m writing it while in a slight state of delirium.
With that said, on to my Friday Confession. If you’ve ever seen me around the likes of a spider you know that I fear them. I loathe them. I have daggers in my heart for them. The sight of one used to leave me paralyzed and screaming.
I think this phobia dates back to my little three-year old self when I found a spider crawling around in my bed. The devil in disguise is surely what I thought. No wonder twenty some years later my subconscious made be blurt out this. The childhood encounter I had changed the world as I knew it because that’s when I realized spiders were out to get me. And they have been ever since. They seek me out, and find me. And humiliate me. And spit in my general direction. And then, before they are “extinguished,” they have silent telepathic communication with far away spider friends and tell them all about me, and where I can be found. And so the cycle continues.
I’m actually a lot better at facing this foe than I was before. I went from being paralyzed, then to just screaming and running away, then to just muffling an Eek! and walking away quickly, then to Oh my gosh there’s a spider. Husband!, then to It’s not so big? Where’s a shoe? Ahhhhhhhhhh! Nevermind. Husband!, then to Die Sucka! Ahhhhhh! I’m actually quite proud of my progression. I still use the Husband for the particularly gnarly looking ones though. That was article #10 in our marriage contract: Husband must be cheerfully willing to kill and dispose of all arachnids, no matter the time, or the place, or the almost- impossible-to-reach dwelling spots of said arachnids.
I do occasionally relapse into spider paranoia. If I think about the crawly creatures too long, then I start to feel itchy. And spiders that I’ve killed come back in ghost form and creep all over my skin. That’s the only explanation for that. Would you like to know the scariest “It Could Happen In Real Life” movie? That would of course be Arachnophobia.
This movie can get me into a nervous fit every time I see it. Don’t put your hand in the popcorn bowl folks! Oh please. For the love don’t put your foot in that slipper! Why don’t you just leave the light on dearie instead of touching that lamp! Showering teenage girl! There is a massively huge spider on your wet soapy face! But don’t scream or else your dad will rush in and see you in your birthday suit. Lock the door next time! SPIDERS!
Obviously I still have a few issues to work out since looking for spider images on the internet made me want to vomit, and right now I’m feeling a little itchy. I think I’m going to go work on that refrigerator idea of mine.
Do you fear the evil that is the arachnid? Have any stories that are sure to make my neck hair stand on end? Please, do tell.
Hope you all have a very pleasant arachnid-free weekend my dear little poopsies.