Friday, March 19, 2004
I was sitting on my bed last night reading the latest Vogue. Hmm. Breast reduction. Hmm. Bold printed skirts. Hmm. Clutch purses. Hmm. Gwen Stefani rocks. Many more thoughts running through my mind. Then, there he was. A big fat hairy black spider crawling up the wall next to my bed. My Hot Shot Spider Killer was within arm's reach. Now, had I been smart, I would have sprayed the wall just below the creature (who will now be known as BFS - Big Fu*#ing Spider) and get him on the upswing. But alas, I shot straight at him and knocked him to the ground. BFS fell into the crack between my bed and the wall. I pulled out the bed and grabbed a broom from the kitchen. BFS was crawling quickly up the side of my mattress. I held back on the spray since I'm pretty sure it's really toxic, and I like to sleep in my bed. BFS dropped to the ground again. I lost him in the pattern on the carpet. Standing in the middle of my bed, broom in the left hand, Hot Shot Spider Killer in the right, something in me snapped. I sprayed. And sprayed. I sprayed around the entire bed, covering the grey carpet with a mist of Spider Killer. I didn't stop. It was like the wire hanger scene from Mommie Dearest. I snapped. Uncertain of BFS's fate and breathing in toxic fumes, I stood on my bed a little longer scanning the carpet. I lowered my broom. All was silent. BFS was either dead or hiding until he could make a midnight attack on my face. I was pretty sure I'd get brain damage if I slept in my bed that night. So, I woke up on the couch this morning, stiff neck and all. I wonder if I'll ever sleep in my bed again. Stupid BFS.