Now, last night I was writing on a bit of paper in here and I made a mistake, so I screwed it up and threw it on the floor. Like you should. And of course, it was still there this evening. I bet you're thinking that piece of paper continued to be useless, no? Well, no. No, this paper saved me tonight. It provided a vital alarm: the ArachAlarm!
So there I was, typing away like my happy nerdy little self, in silence (save for the clicky-click of my keyboard) and what should I hear but this strange little noise at my feet? What could it be? Well, I'll tell you, it was the most fucking ma-HOOOOOOsive spider I have ever seen in England, save from in the zoo. But I wasn't thinking this at the time, no, not at all. Indeed, what I was actually thinking was "Holy shit, where's the nearest glass?" and seconds later, "FUCKING HELL THAT BASTARD MOVES LIKE A LITTLE EIGHT-LEGGED BULLSEYE!"
The eek-attracter, this huge intruder, this offending arachnid with visible eyes and thick legs with hair as long as my eyelashes, it stopped in front of my wardrobe. I thought that finally one giant beastie might be easy to catch. But, it had two leggies underneath the wardrobe already, and I could tell he was a teasie beastie. Bastard, bastard beastie. Teasing me, this horrific eight-legged eek ran under my wardrobe. I called in back-up in the form of my twelve-year-old kind of sister. Aside from giggling a lot at my obvious terror, she also resorted to making comments such as, "Wow, his legs are reeeeeally long..." to lighten the mood. I told her I'd formed a plan. All this time, I'd been thinking, though. I'd had on my mind that any spidie-widie large enough to crumple paper under-hideous-foot was probably a little big and burly to be messing with using the conventional methods.
The plan meant taking apart my chest of drawers and moving it away from the wardrobe, therefore giving the beastie a faux chance to escape. After half an hour of grunting and moving heavy furniture on my part (there's a bookcase on the chest of drawers), the bastard made a break for it... straight into a glass. My terror... it was mixed with pride. I had not screamed once! I am still proud. I did swear a lot.
This is the third or fourth spider in my room of this size (I think this one was the king though, as it was a lot bigger than then previous one I caught). I like to think I am becoming more equipped to deal with them; I always have a glass, I always have my shoes on, and my room is tidy (usually) so I can see them from a distance. This one nearly got me; the adrenaline rush was the only saviour my body gave me. The thing to remember, folks, is that fight is better than flight in these cases, becuse if you fly and then come back and it's not there anymore, that's a shame. A shame because either you will have to put
your house on the market, or simply board off that room (and any with connecting doors).
These eight-legged eeks cannot win this war! They should not! We are hundreds, thousands of times their size! And yet they are terrifying. Did you know most people fear spiders more than they fear death?
For those of you who need someone else who knows (or those of you who save us all the time and shock us with your amazingness when you pick up spiders in your BARE hands- a wonderful trick and talent!), clicky here. I swear to you, I love this because it defines me quite well- certainyl in Autumn when more eekies come into the house (due to deteriorating weather- they hate rain even mroe than you do) and I have to deal (or scream and run) accordingly.
This is the last spider, about a week or two ago. The one tonight was about one and a half times this size... To be honest, I didn't keep the first one, so I can't check. Let's just say, the one today left me literally almost unable to form words.
P.S. This is my bedroom after tonight's little incident.
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