Tuesday, January 16, 2018

The Spider in My Shower

Sorry for the repost, but somehow the original disappeared.  This was first posted very early in January.

About two weeks ago I encountered a spider living in my shower.  I didn't freak.  I'm tough like that.  But I admit, at first I was a bit startled and honestly not very pleased.  They have eight eyes you know.  That's EIGHT eyes looking at my fat icky naked ass.  EIGHT eyes mounted on a creepy little head that has a body with eight spindly creepy multi jointed legs.  I have pretty high ceilings and he was way up in the corner, so I decided- mostly because I really don't want EMTs picking my broken naked ass up out of the shower when I slip and almost kill myself- that I'll just let bygones be bygones and creepy spider can continue to hang out up there.  Plus, he wasn't moving much and he wasn't one of those hairy bastards that might jump on you just to watch you scream and jitter bug all over the place while his equally hairy spider friends hide under the sink and dryer placing bets over juicy fly corpses as to whether or not the human will actually injure themself or just dash off.

Second day in the shower, Hugh (it's been two days, the dude needs a name) is still hanging out but in a different corner.  This time he wiggles his web a little and I have to admit that I feel a tiny threatened.  I flick a little water at him and you know what?  He went over to the water, and although I certainly can't see his teeny tiny mouth, I swear, he drank that water.   Now he's not a just a spider.  He's Hugh and he has needs.  We bond.  'Cause I'm Leah and I have needs too!  We're really not so different.  Maybe this isn't actually MY shower, but Hugh's living room.  He's my bud.  We're cool. Hey I'm not a spider racist (speciesist?).  Hugh should get equal rights.

Next shower I can't immediately find Hugh and that's a bit concerning because bonded or not.... I need to know Hugh doesn't have any bets going on with other gangly legged spiders that involve me pissing myself, screaming, or damaging my own body parts.  Ah.... a little searching reveals Hugh has moved yet again and a bit lower.  Not sure I like the lower part, but being that it's winter and I personally haven't seen so much as a fruit fly, I get it.  He needs better hunting grounds. Or more water.  I flick him some and go about my routine safe in our living arrangement and his lack of friends.

A few more showers go by and Hugh has kept a reasonable distance, hasn't played a single practical joke, and frankly I'm feeling a little affectionate toward my shower spider.  I no longer care how many eyes he's looking at my fat ass with, because let's face it, he's a spider.  He doesn't know an ass from a thorax.  And unless he can eat it, I'm sure he doesn't even care.  If anything, he's pitying me my lack of legs.

Tuesday in the shower and there's no Hugh.   What's this?  Maybe he's moved outside the shower to another corner of the bathroom.  Nope.  Where's Hugh?  I don't think he's dead.  I would find him hanging in a web right?   Maybe he's spider vacationing... you know in the kitchen or something.

Wednesday.  Still no Hugh.  Now I have checked the kitchen.  Not there.  Where's Hugh?  How long do gangly legged spiders live?  Did he wander off to die?  Hugh?  Where are you buddy?  My cats are following me around as I walk from room to room checking ceilings.  Damn.  No Hugh.  This is my fault. I should have left out some bad fruit.  I mean for real, the least I could have done was provide a fruit fly or two.  What have I done?  Wait.  What if Hugh is really a Charlotte and I'm going to be inundated with tiny spindly Hughs? Oh God.  Yuck.  That's a bit much.

Wait a minute.  I just realized.  I am feeling the loss of. a. spider.  I look at Doug who has joined the cats in following me around.

"Doug," I say, "I'm losing it man.  I have to stop this.  I need a life."  Doug agrees.  I can tell.  Bacon doesn't really care.  He's pretty self involved, but Eggs, he's with Doug on this one.  That cat has my back.

....And..... I'm talking to my dog.  Yup.  Definitely in need of a life.  Or medication.  I think the medication might be easier to get.  Bacon agrees.

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