Friday, July 3, 2009

Post Traumatic Spider Disorder...

So I'm not scared of spiders. Never have been. I think tarantulas are cool. I admit I saw this tiny bit of Arachnophobia which messed me up pretty good for a short while, but lately all has been well.

Until this morning...

I grabbed my face wash out of the shower and right by the drain, I swear to you, was the biggest spider ever created. Looked like a hubcap. Luckily, I reacted coolly and calmly, and by coolly and calmly, I mean I screamed bloody murder. Then I got that feeling. You know the one where all your blood turns to ice and you get goosebumps all over and realize you now have to move? Yeah that one.

Okay think fast! Turn on the faucet and try not to hurl in the tub. My fast thinking and not hurling triggered his spidey sense, and he ran back down into the drain. GROSS! So I kicked the faucet on high and let it run for a long time. Washed that horror right down the drain. Still completely freaked out, but, proud of my awesome mutant spider drowning skills, I went back to cleaning the living room.

Then it hit me...That thing was one of those creepy water spiders. He was much too quick to dive back in the drain. That little effer is probably just chilling under the sink plug waiting for it to quit raining. So I snuck back in there to peek in the tub.

Dude. That thing had climbed back out of the drain and was all chilling with his crazy legs on top of the drain plug drying out. Cue "that feeling." I may or not have blacked out. I cannot be sure. I cranked the faucet up again and he just sort of flinched with his omgsocreepiness. Oh no sir. This calls for more than lame shower pressure.
I filled a pitcher in the kitchen (which is totally hard to do when you're all shaking and goosebumpy and oh so nauseous from the sci fi action) to completely wash him down the drain. HOT water! Oh yeah. Dumped it in there and he just sort of gross spider wrinkled up and was not giving up his grip on the drain plug. AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! (Sorry if you're reading this Shell.) OMGOMGOMG!!! More pitcher water! OMG, now he's like wedged between plug and tub. (This is EXACTLY how Xanax was developed you guys.)

OMG, okay think! Dawn! Dawn cuts the grease, and I sho nuff need somebody to do some cutting! Dawn dish soap in the pitcher water, and he finally gave it up and was washed down the drain. Now, because my short term memory is heightened in this sort of trauma, I know not to be fooled by the whole oh he's gone down the drain act. I dumped at least 7 more pitchers of water down along with the running faucet. And for good measure? I used a broom to close the drain. Yeah! Take that!

So now does anybody mind if I borrow their shower? I can't open the drain in mine.

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