Spider Trauma

Today could possibly go down in the books as one of the most traumatizing days of my life. I don't even know if I can write this post through the massive amounts of heebie geebies surging through my body, but I'll give it a go.

1) I hate spiders. I hate everything about them. From the creepy way they move around to their webs to their fangs. H.A.T.E. I'm 36 years old and for roughly 30 years, I have done a "spider check" every single night. That's approximately 10,950 checks of my bed for spiders before I can lay down. I just know that one is waiting for me under those sheets someday.

2) I am beyond afraid of spiders. If you want to see my pulse double in under a second, show me a spider. Even the mere thought of having to kill one sends me into a small panic attack. If no one else is around and I'm on my own to kill a spider, I have to do the whole count to 3 thing to get my courage up to get close enough to crush one and even then, it usually takes me 3-4 tries to swing that shoe through screaming and cold sweats. Killing spiders is the stuff my nightmares are made of.

Now that you're in on my unfounded fear of spiders, my morning commute today was a full on stage 5 panic attack. All was going well. I was in the car with the tunes playin', steamy coffee in the console, and apparently a daggum spider dangling less than a foot from my head. Something caught my eye and when I tured in the general direction of said movement, boom, spider man is swinging next to my face from my sunroof. Ahhhhhhh! No, seriously. I screamed and just started swinging! Both hands left the wheel and just began flailing. In that moment I could not have cared less if I hit another car. There was a spider next to my FACE!!

You know what the downfall is of swinging at a spider? You might actually hit what you're aiming for. You know what's worse? When the stupid thing vanishes. Where. Did. It. Go???? It was there and now it's gone and the only thing that caused it to disappear was my ever-lovin' arm. MY ARM! Now we're talking full blown meltdown. I looked everywhere all while frantically shaking my arm like it was on fire. Still no blessed spider. Excuse me while I dab these cold sweats from my brow as I type.

Needless to say, my drive to work this am was anything less than relaxing. You might as well have held a gun to my head. Okay, maybe that's a bit much, but it was so scary, you guys!

And this is where it all turns just about as far south as it can go...

Fast forward four hours and I head to the restroom for a bathroom break. You see where I'm going here?

As I turn to flush, something catches my eye, again. Say. It. Ain't. So. And there he is, people. The DAGGUM spider!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He is now in the toilet, swimming. I just can't. Where the he@# has he been for the FOUR hours?????????? He was on me for FOUR hours!!! During TWO meetings, I was chillin with a spider on me! Was it in my hair? On my back? Under my skirt? In my sleeve? Again, I just cannot... It's all too much. I may need counseling. Or a can of raid to spray in my hair and a match to burn my cute new skirt.

When I told my coworker that I had found the missing spider and that it had been on me for the last four hours, she simply stated "well, maybe it was just sitting on your back" all nonchalant like. Oh, okay, good. Thank God it's only been on my back like a dang spider backpack! Thank the Lord you cleared that one up!!! Excuse me while I dry heave into my trash can now.

How does one come back from this? I'm really not sure. But I can confidently tell you that my beloved spider checks will now go from the bed to the car and back again every single day. And if one more spider EVER falls out of my hair or my skirt OR takes a free ride on my back for four hours, you can put a fork in me cuz I'm straight up done. Done. My heart simply cannot take it.