Aug 26, 2010 10:33
I was in the bathroom yesterday when I looked down for something and, outside of the range of my glasses, I saw something large and black on me. EW. Naturally I freaked and shook it off. I thought it was one of those horrible silverfish; instead, it was a big black spider. He scurried off to the baseboard and climbed the wall, possibly upset that I didn't want to be besties with him.
Fast-forward to last night. My big black buddy had now taken up residence under my vanity, all stretched out in "You can't see me!" mode. Then I looked up to see another spider, smaller, more delicate, that sort of pink translucent kind, on the ceiling over the doorway. Great. That one didn't move, but my big buddy started crawling along the floor, back over to the baseboard and the wall, eventually disappearing. This was right during Kirby med time, as if I don't have enough to worry about then.
This morning, I have yet to see big buddy, but the little pink one has wedged itself over my lights where the ceiling meets the wall. Here's the thing: I don't mind sharing my living space with spiders. I just mind *seeing* them. And, especially, having them crawl on me. If you don't want to chance dying, don't crawl on me. Just FYI.
bugs,
spiders