Dear Diary,
As I may have told you before, I am a perpetually single girl. There are short stints when I have a man by my side, but for the most part I find myself rarely needing a man. I am a very self sufficient woman. I own a toolbox, have friends to keep me company, and can buy myself shiny things if I want them…
…but tonight I needed a man.
My current residence is in a one bedroom basement apartment in Seattle. The other night (total Psycho moment) I was taking a shower and I had that horrible feeling of someone watching me. I slowly raised my eyes to the upper corner of there shower, and sure enough peeking through the vent was a large nasty-ass spider. We locked eyes for a second before I shrunk into the opposite corner of the shower where I stood frozen for a good solid minute to I contemplated my next move.
You see, I have always been terrified of spider because I believe them to be uncomfortably intelligent. They have to be to weave those beautiful intricate webs, I can barely knit scarf. Growing up when I would find a spider in my house it had to be killed right away. They say it is more scared of me than I am of it, but I don’t believe it! I think they were trying to take over my house, which is a reasonable thought. Have you ever seen a spider egg hatch? Millions of babies burst out! A dozen spiders could lay eggs and hatch enough spiders to take over the entire house! So the every spiders must die. My only method of killing is to yell “DADDY!” and the next thing I knew it would be dead.
Somehow as I stared up the spider above my shower I didn’t think shouting “DADDY!” would work. So instead I hurried up and finished my shower and got the hell out of the shower. As I dried off I kept one eye on the spider, and he was moving, quite quickly down the shower and then back up again. So I shut off the light and shut the door.
As I sat in bed reading my eyes were drawn to the crack under the bathroom door. After 10 minutes of attempting to read I knew that if I couldn’t get through a paragraph of my book I would not be able to sleep until the spider was in its tissuie grave. So I grabbed a sandal and went to tackle the spider.
I turned on the light and he hadn’t moved. The trouble was he was too high and the tub was too narrow to stand on. So I grabbed a small plastic bottle and began chucking it at the spider. Being the uncoordinated girl that I am, I only made him move over a bit… I knew I needed another technique. So I decided to hoist myself up on the tub hold on to the sink with one hand and a sandal in the other and I wacked that spider good. He fell into the tub where I proceeded to take his precious life away from him.
Now I know that may seems a little anti-climatic, but this was a big deal for me. For the first time in my life I was able to do something myself that I had previously relied on a man for. You would think I would feel like a powerful and independent woman. But at that moment as I scooped up the spider with a tissue I wanted a man more than ever. I HATED having to kill that thing myself, my heart was racing and my knees were weak.
Then again, I guess being independent isn’t easy, otherwise everyone would be alone. If the only reason I “need” a man is to kill my spiders, I guess I’m doing okay.
Hugs and kisses till next time!
Dear Diary 