Ambushed

Last night I went into the kitchen to make my nightly cup of tea . . . out of the corner of my eye I caught movement by the window. I looked over and there was this BIG ASS spider running across the windowsill. I jumped and screamed . . . and he jumped off the ledge and onto the kitchen chair with a loud plop . . . which made me jump and scream more . . . which only made him run faster, leaping off the chair and onto the floor. Never have I seen such a prison break type of attempted get-away from a spider. If he hadn't panicked and just stayed perfectly still on the window ledge I probably wouldn't have noticed him at all. But this guy was a runner, a jumper, a nervous wreck.

I raced upstairs and got the flyswat, raced back down thinking for sure he would've gone by then and I'd go crazy from wondering when he was going to pop up again. But there he was in the corner, catching his breath, plotting his strategy . . . not the brightest bulb in the pack, he can't say I didn't give him every opportunity for escape. I swatted him and issued a warning to all who might be lurking in the shadows listening, "If I see you, you will die. I am bigger than you. I am the woman of the house. I am strong and I will crush you." Then I went back upstairs and spent the rest of the evening fidgeting and imagining movement, but turning to find nothing there.

I don't mind co-habitating with them as long as I don't have to look at them, as long as they leave me alone. Can't we all just get along?! Must I walk softly and carry a big fly swat?

Mood: Dazed 'n Confused
Drinking: Coffee, organic with real cream
Listening To: Rush, Working Man
Hair: . . . oy!