Clowns...evil people at work...spiders...
Sunday nights are the worst. It's like I get the Pre-Mondays. I realize it's ridiculous to start getting wonky about the workweek while it's still technically weekend-time, but I can't help myself. Last Sunday night was no exception... I'm generally anxious by Sunday night, especially when I know that the week ahead is going to treat me like the Volturi with a score to settle - there will be lots of gnashy-metal noises, pain, fire, and general unpleasantness.
So late last this past Sunday night, I'm trying my damnedest to be all zen-like and not let things get to me. I was in the bathroom and I'd already washed my face and brushed my teeth and was ready to get into bed and do battle with my brain and its nasty of going into overdrive the second my head hits the pillow. Favorite can't-sleep subjects: really disturbing news stories; financial woes; shit I forgot to do; what am I doing with my life?; the fact that I can't sleep...
Almost as an afterthought, I decide to move the scale out a little bit from the clothes I'd just tossed on it. Because I needed to remind myself to step on that thing in the morning; it was long overdue. Anyway, I reach down and push the scale forward a couple of inches and HOLYFUCKINGSHIT THAT IS THE BIGGEST SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIIIIIIIFE!!! Which is clearly about to be over. I mean my life. Because this spider it THAT huge. Also, it looks hungry. So I do what most people do when they find themselves locked in the bathroom - naked - with a ginormous, hungry-looking spider: I screamed my bloody head off.
Ladies (and random gents), I don't normally get worked up over spiders. I am the slayer of insects, spiders, and the like in my house. Well, "catcher" would be a more accurate title, since we try to practice "catch & release" on anything not posing an imminent threat to our well-being (mosquitoes, stingy-things that aren't willing to be caught on the first try). But regardless, I usually don't lose my shit at the sight of creepy crawlies. Sure, I check my bed for critters every night before I shut off the lights, but only because I'm already sharing enough of the bed with Mr. Snarky.
So were was I? Oh yeah - naked, not sleepy at ALL, shrieking in the bathroom. I grab a clear plastic cup, consider just smushing the spider, remember I am barefoot, and slam the cup down over the behemoth. I grab a card and start sliding it under the cup. The spider isn't moving. Is it dead? Dying? Did I scare it do death? I keep slowly nudging the card under the cup, and it starts to curl into that "I'm dying" spider fetal ball. Nudge. Nudge. Nud...OHMYGOD IT'S SO NOT DEAD!!! I swear that halfway through my nudging, the spider realizes I'm not falling for the playing dead thing, unfurls itself, LEAPS up and launches itself across the cup and in the general direction of my head. I'm pretty sure it made an audible "thump" as it hit the plastic. I'm also pretty sure it was trying to eat my face off. It's possible I yelped a little.
I reinforced the card under the cup with another card. And then a piece of cardboard. Because if that thing escaped, we'd have to pack up our things and go spend the night in a hotel before returning with flame-throwers the next day. I left it in the bathroom while I went and unlocked doors and windows to give myself an obstacle-free path to an open spider-ejecting portal. After rescuing one card (there was one in the mix from Dangrdafne!), I picked up the rest of the pile, and the cardboard, ran to the window (carefully! no tripping!), and hurled the whole shebang out into the night. If it hasn't been past midnight, I would have done what I usually do with the REALLY creepy, scary things that I catch: walked it to the edge of my property and tossed it into the neighbor's lawn in the hopes that when it looks for the next home to invade, it won't be mine.
Ooooor under my bathroom scale. I think it's a sign I should throw that thing out.
It took every bit of willpower I have (and Myg's brain-calming eye trick) to settle down enough to nod off an hour later. Damn you, spider! I think I need a go-to-sleep mantra... Or some extra-strength chamomile tea... I'd head straight for the RX stuff but I'm afraid I'd wake up twelve hours later to find out that I spent the night driving around eating peanut butter and anchovy sandwiches and doing donuts in some random parking lot (seriously, if you ever want to be entertained and scared shitless at the same time, go read a forum where people talk about the weird things they've done - unknowingly - while in an Ambien haze).
I need some help! Well, I need help on a lot of fronts, but in this particular instance, I'll settle for some tips on how to decompress after a hard fought, midnight battle with a very hungry arachnid. Barring that, feel free to entertain me with your own war stories in the comments! If I'm going to be up, I might as well be snorteling at the laptop...