October 5, 2011

Screw you, Aragog

I don't like spiders.

Like, I REALLY don't like spiders.

I figured this out a few years ago. I mean, I always knew, but over the last few years it has become horrifyingly apparent that I really, really don't like spiders. People try to tell me "oh, the spiders won't hurt you, they are more afraid of you than you are of them." If that were true, the spiders wouldn't come anywhere near me because I would be THAT SCARY. Seeing as spiders still manage to find me on an almost daily basis, this argument is invalid.

I have perfectly good reason to fear spiders.

First of all, they are scary. LIKE REALLY SCARY.

Second, I have empirical evidence showing that they are the undead. I once killed a spider three times over the course of three days. The first day, I beat it with a wooden spoon and ran it down the sink. The next morning, it showed up again. I beat the little crap again and then ran it through the garbage disposal. The next afternoon, Zombie Spider made his third appearance. I knew it was the same one because half of its eight, disgusting legs were broken and mangled. Yet there it sat, the eight-legged demon, staring at me, daring me to do my worst. If I could speak spider (which would be a completely wasted skill on an arachnophobic, mind you), I'm pretty sure that it would have been saying "Come at me, bro." I spent five minutes beating it with a wooden spoon (the same one from Day 1), then turned the disposal on for another five. It didn't return.

Third, spiders are vengeful beasts. Case in point: the day that I killed Zombie Spider, his friend decided to pay me a visit. When I was sitting peacefully on the couch. How did he make his entrance? By descending inches in front of my face and, after I had screamed and fled, hiding in said couch, making couch-ing impossible for the following three days.

Fourth, they like to hide in my shower. Not cool.

Fifth, nothing normal has eight legs. NOTHING.

So when I say that I am afraid of spiders, believe me.

And I am fairly certain that there is a spider hiding in my garage right now. It has been there for the past few days. I'm pretty sure it lives in the wall that I have to walk by to get to my car every morning.

Here is a diagram of my garage:

Yellow areas represent areas of high spider density, and the dotted blue represents the path I must take to get to my car (the red blob) each morning. My half of the garage is a tight squeeze, to say the least. The way it works is this:

I run from the door to the house around the fridge and recycling bins to my car, being careful to avoid making eye contact with the spider infestation by my right front tire because if I can see them then they can see me and that is scary. I flatten myself against my car door and quickly scooch along until I am past the driver's door enough to open it, being careful not to hit it against the wall. Opening the door requires that I put a block that closes me off in spider territory again, so I throw my stuff into the passenger's seat and leap into the car, slamming the door as quickly as possible.

This happens every single day.

I need a Kleenex.

1 comment:

  1. I love how your garage diagram indicates your storage space for old science fair boards: )