Lebanon is home to creepy crawlies. Our compound is home to creepy crawlies. Our homes are occasionally invaded by creepy crawlies. Up until today I had not had to join the club of those who have been invaded. My luck ran out.
I came home from work and was focused on not allowing the pesky fly that was bothering me the whole walk home access to the inside. So I quickly opened the screen door, unlocked the door, and jumped inside, slamming the screen door. And there it was. Tucked up between the screen and part of the door frame (though thankfully the outside of the screen). A tarantula. Cue screaming and swearing. Cue stomach dropping. Cue jumping around and shaking/shivering.
So I did what any normal person would do. I grabbed a bottle of bug spray and re-opened the main door and sprayed the heck out of the eight legged intruder. It wiggled some of its many legs. I closed the door again, checked to make sure there were no cracks or easy entrances around the door, and went to find something stronger. Like Windex. By the time I got back, it was gone.
Cue never sleeping again.
I promptly began suffering symptoms of a panic attack, which is pretty normal for me and my horrifically acute fear of eight-legged creatures. I can't even write the real word; that's how powerful the phobia is. And then I called my mom, who sympathized and said all the right things but couldn't do what I really needed her to do - find and eradicate the thing.
The Facebook world agrees with the above meme that burning down the house is the only logical option. But seeing as how I don't actually own it and I kinda like the stuff inside and I do enjoy my career, I think I will choose not to go this route. And I will thank my lucky stars that - while this day has come - I still haven't had to encounter one (or, even worse, lose one) inside my house.
(The cats, you ask? Oblivious.)
I came home from work and was focused on not allowing the pesky fly that was bothering me the whole walk home access to the inside. So I quickly opened the screen door, unlocked the door, and jumped inside, slamming the screen door. And there it was. Tucked up between the screen and part of the door frame (though thankfully the outside of the screen). A tarantula. Cue screaming and swearing. Cue stomach dropping. Cue jumping around and shaking/shivering.
So I did what any normal person would do. I grabbed a bottle of bug spray and re-opened the main door and sprayed the heck out of the eight legged intruder. It wiggled some of its many legs. I closed the door again, checked to make sure there were no cracks or easy entrances around the door, and went to find something stronger. Like Windex. By the time I got back, it was gone.
Cue never sleeping again.
I promptly began suffering symptoms of a panic attack, which is pretty normal for me and my horrifically acute fear of eight-legged creatures. I can't even write the real word; that's how powerful the phobia is. And then I called my mom, who sympathized and said all the right things but couldn't do what I really needed her to do - find and eradicate the thing.
The Facebook world agrees with the above meme that burning down the house is the only logical option. But seeing as how I don't actually own it and I kinda like the stuff inside and I do enjoy my career, I think I will choose not to go this route. And I will thank my lucky stars that - while this day has come - I still haven't had to encounter one (or, even worse, lose one) inside my house.
(The cats, you ask? Oblivious.)
1 comment:
HAHAHA!!!! Lovin' your cat! It was probably a good thing it wasn't bothered at all considering the level of napalm you put down on that critter! Hope you're getting better sleep now!
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