I Guess It Serves Me Right

Let me apologize for the perfectly crummy mood I was in this week. I mean, I still feel that I was completely justified in being a "grumpy giant," but sometimes I wonder if I complain too much. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable; I just needed to vent (and yes, Angie, it was..."the mean one" -- if, indeed you are referring to the one who seems to have a special place in her pit of meanness reserved especially for Rachel)...

Aside from that, I had kind of a funny/ironic/creeeepy experience this week. Brooke was in the darkroom a few days ago when I heard her scream. She had discovered a spider on the counter, right next to her. Well, I hate spiders just as much as the next girly-girl, but I decided to be heroic and save Brooke from the venomous monster. Okay, so it turns out that it was an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny spider (no yellow polka-dots, even). I smooshed it with a pair of scissors and threw it in the trash. I kind of laughed to myself, because seriously -- it was a nothing of a spider. Maybe I shouldn't have thought her so silly, because you know...what goes around, comes around. Thursday night, I got home late from visiting with my family. It was really dark outside, but when I opened my front door I could see that there was a spider on the ground, just outside my apartment. And not just any spider...a huge black widow! EEEEEEEEWWWWWWW!!!!! I was wearing flip-flops, so I practically jumped over the threshold to avoid it. I knew I had to kill it, though, so I ran and put on some tennis shoes, then jumped around my living room shrieking for a couple of minutes or two (I think the shrieking helped me summon my courage). I finally managed to send that big ugly bugger to its cobwebby grave, but I had the creepy-crawlies all night long. I was jumping and jerking around in bed all night because I SWEAR I could feel things crawling on me...

This week I am spraying down my whole apartment building. I already have all the stuff to do it, and I'm not taking any more chances. I've learned my lesson, too: I promise not to laugh at any of you ever again if you freak out over a little, tiny spider.