Save me from my imagination

So that is not what I wanted to see just as I was heading to bed.  A giant (quarter-sized) dark hairy hideous spider PERCHED ABOVE MY BED.  So I nab some Kleenex to bag the motherfucker – I’m sorry, not only is profanity warranted, but so is the killing of another living being, in this instance.  You didn’t see it.

So anyway, I’m all poised to nab the aforementioned motherfucker, after yes, stifling two screams, flailing a lot, and contemplating getting moral support from at least one roommate.  But they’re both either in bed or on their way, and frankly, there’s nothing they really coulda done that I couldn’t do myself, and I know by the size of this mofo that everyone in the house is equally afraid.  And this is one of those moments when I kind of wish we had at least one male roommate, because even though most of the guys I know are equally wigged out by spiders, at least they usually pretend to be all macho and saddle up and try to kill them all chivalrous-like for us ladyfolk.

But in the absence of a male roommate (and sometimes in the presence of a live-in boyfriend – don’t ask), I am the default Man of the House.  I fix shit, I Drano(TM), and there’s no fucking way I’m getting out of killing my own spider.  So I nab it with the Kleenex.  It shakes free of my Kleenex and FALLS.  DANGEROUSLY closer to my fucking PILLOW.  So I nab again.  He fucking skittles out of the way (sorry, this motherfucker is definitely a male; I just know).   I nab a third time, with two Kleenexes, one from each side, trapping him in the middle.  I squish.  HARD.  I add a second layer of Kleenex and squish again, to prevent the same aforementioned shaking-free maneouver (or however the fuck you spell it because right now I am still envisioning eight-legged creatures in my peripheral vision that have decided to make a home of where I put my fucking FACE at night).

I pull away my Kleenex fortress, confident of victory.  No fucking spider.  Lots of dust, but NO SPIDER.  So now he’s LOOSE near my HEAD and/or IN MY BED which I have yes shaken out several times and basically stripped and remade twice.  And he’s not in the curtains, or back on the windowsill, or under the bed as far as I can tell using the two flashlights I procured for the purpose.

I fucking NEED a good night’s sleep after America Day, and now I’m going to be dreaming about motherfucking CHARLOTTE all night.  Except this one is Charlotte’s evil twin, and instead of living on a farm and spelling things, he’s going to be living on my FACE and BITING ME.

I motherfucking hate our old charming house sometimes and its shoddy window seals.  Fuck you, spider.  Good fucking night.

And don’t even ASK me about the bug at work today.


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