Eight Legged Freaks

Someone should have warned me that there are 400 billion spiders in Missouri before I moved here. Maybe I wouldn't have come. (Yes, that's how many live here with me. I'm not exaggerating when I say this – I've killed a spider every day for four consecutive days. I even dreamt about spiders last night.)

I am so sick of being freaked out by damn spiders every day. I do not like them. I can not live with them in harmony. Yet, I hate killing them simply because you have to get close to them to do it. Yes, in this area, I'm the worst "girl" you'll ever meet. I hate them. Hate hate hate.

In addition, they can get away from you and hide so thoroughly that you can't find them… and you know they are there, just lying in wait, so they can kill you in your sleep.

One got away from me this evening. I do not like that fact. (It also broke my daily killing streak.)

On a brighter note, the spider web that was built in the corner my bathroom has caught one of my own hairs and a white feather, presumably from the down comforter I use. The spider that has been in residence there has disappeared. I'm hoping he starved to death, but I'm sure that didn't happen. I think that instead, a larger spider living in my apartment probably ate him.

I know I'm next on the menu.

I've had a conversation with my spider plant, Mr. Spidey. He's not interested in protecting me. Damn useless plant.

End Blog.