Every day I wake up, prepared for the war. It is a never-ending battle. My enemy multiply whilst I sleep and they keep coming.In droves. In waves. They move as slow as molasses or faster than my human eyes could possibly comprehend. I wake in a cold sweat, perspiration on my brow…shaking…panicky…My war never ends
When I was young, I declared a war against spiders. Every night before bed, I check my sheets for them, shoe in hand, ready to brutally end their lives with way more force than necessary. Sometimes I find one and even if I kill it, I still can’t go to sleep because it confirmed my fear that sometimes there are spiders waiting in my bed for me. My husband said that there is always a spider within several feet, 6 I think, of you at any time.
I used to pretend that I wasn’t afraid of spiders, like I was “one of the guys”… It made me feel cool – like I was braver than most people, and people would look at me with wonder and awe. If someone called me on my bluff and asked me to dispose of a spider, I would put on my battle-face and do my best to get rid of it without letting the panic bubble to the surface. Ready to mash…Ready to squash…I swallowed my bile and disposed of it. Gave it a proper burial—Viking burial at sea. I would even give it a little salute as it swirled down the drain, never to crawl again. Never to infest my nightmare with his ooey-gooey wicked eight leggyness.
My friend Sandra Carrington-Smith goes out of her way to release spiders back into the wild. When I violently express my fear, revulsion and hatred, she stands, in her infinite optimism and says “But spiders have families too!!” I do not know if she is trying to make me become sympathetic and understanding toward spiders, but fuck no…I am NOT having it!! I squash the bastards. Smoosh them under my shoe. Cackle at their messy demise. Sandra may have struck an accord with them, but not me! She knows that have families…But that’s exactly the point. Spiders have families and their families are also spiders. @ spiders boink and suddenly there are spiders all over the damn place…. We should kill spiders because they have families.
Not all spiders are loving little web-spinners like out of “Charlotte’s Web”…Nope. They are what I cal the BAS…Big Ass Spider. Worst encounter I ever had was when I opened a cabinet door in the kitchen, in our old condo, and one fell out of the cabinet. It hauled ass across the counter, and left me stomping in the kitchen and screaming like a little bitch. I wanted blood. I wanted guts. I wanted to tear the little fucker limb from fricking limb. I pulled out the microwave and coated it with Lysol. I skittered across the counter towards the sink, so I threw a roll of paper towels at it from across the room. When I checked back, it was lying in the sink, looking like a shriveled up raisin, it’s legs all curled in like a shrimp, one leg twitching back and forth like a one-legged Rockette…
I swirled it down the drain and turned on the disposal.
I had to be sure.
I don’t pretend anymore.