- I actually look like one. (Hooray boobs!)
- I dissolve into a puddle of incoherent goo when faced with a giant insect, staring me down at 2:33 am.
A few nights ago during a bout of insomnia, I stumbled out of my room; annoyed, hungry, and bleary-eyed. In the midst of making myself a protein shake, I slowly turned around and my eyes found it. I froze. The monstrosity was fist-sized with a wet, black sheen and as I looked at him; his fangs, I swear, protracted.
I emitted a slow, breathy "Oh my god." At least in my head it sounded slow and breathy. In reality, it was more in the range of a horrified, piercing shriek.
Revulsion shivered across my skin and I panicked. It salivated in between the tops of my cabinets and the ceiling and I couldn't reach it. I blindly searched for a weapon. I grabbed a paper towel roll but I knew, I knew, that if I swatted at it, it would come flying at me. I couldn't see the underbelly of this beast but in my sleep deprived I-have-to-get-up-in-four-hours-to-make-an-early-
morning-meeting mind I imagined that it had a red hour glass on it. So after I was bitten, I would surely lapse into a black-widow coma and expire.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. I would suck it up with my vacuum cleaner! I inwardly rejoiced. Without taking my eyes off of the thing, I inched towards the other side of the room, my arms braced against the sides of the counter top like I was on the ledge of a skyscraper. I turned, opened the door to the broom closet, and grabbed the vacuum. I whirled around-vacuum in hand- and brandished it like a sword.
The spider was gone.
Oh. My. God. I streaked pass the cabinet, jumping up to see if I could see the monster and vaulted into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. My eyes drifted to the small space in between my door and the carpet. In my mania, I actually leaped off the bed, procured a dirty towel from my laundry basket, and shoved it violently under the crack. The enemy now had me cornered in my room with my pillow tucked underneath my chin and my knees hugged tightly against my chest.
I had been reduced to a simpering, witless moron. By a spider.
It occurs to me now that if it had been a black widow spider (and it was not- wiki just told me so) paranoid girls everywhere would have celebrated my demise. I mean, seriously, how appropriate! Lola done in by her own nefarious M.O.