May 20, 2009
I was not alone in the shower.
I just took a shower with a spider.
It was not intentional, of course, and only people who share my irrational and completely unfounded fear of spiders will understand my reaction. I screamed like a little girl. Because that's what creatures who are over 5 feet tall and weigh ... rather a lot ... do when they see tiny little insects that could be easily squashed but yet hold a terrifying power over humanity. We lose all sense of reason and huddle far away (while still being able to keep a keen eye on the dreaded creature) and we whimper and cringe. It's very normal, I'm sure.
So there I was, alone in the shower with The Enemy, and he was near the drain and struggling mightily not to be sucked down with the shampoo and water. I splashed water at him, but still it took a while for him to spiral down, and then I felt an immediate sense of sadness. Had he suffered much? Was it inhumane of me to let him drown? Did he have a name? Couldn't I have been at least brave enough to squash him with the soap and spare him the pain of drowning?
It was then I realized I have slipped off the shelf of anxiety and landed squarely in the realm of the utterly insane. Perhaps it's a sign to get more sleep, or eat more carbs, or do something, anything, before I start naming the dust balls in the dark recesses of the kitchen and communing with my belly button.
Posted by laurie at May 20, 2009 6:44 AM