Mr. Gangly-legs

I killed a spider this morning, and I feel awful about it. I don't like killing spiders, and besides... I wasn't raised that way! Spiders are our friends and they eat annoying little gnats and fruit flies that would otherwise be buzzing about our heads like the infuriating gadflies that they are.

Right. But this morning, apparently none of that mattered to me. I didn't just kill it. I ANNIHILATED it.

It was large, with veeeerrrrry long legs and perched in front of my dresser. I was fresh out of the shower and more than a little naked. There was a pronounced feeling of vulnerability, and though I know that I had a much lower score on the scale of helplessness, I moved effortlessly into attack mode.

Mr. Gangly-legs got hit with a good dose of foot spray, as it was the closest thing I had to poison in my bedroom. This turned him white, and while it most likely improved his foot odor, it did not impede his movement. Hence, the newspaper.

He's still under there, and I am pretty upset about it. He's probably the one who ate the fruit fly that was buzzing around my head the other night. Of course, on the other hand, he's probably the source of the bite on my left leg. Either way, I hope karma goes easy on me today. After only three and a half hours of sleep (through no fault of my own, but worth every lost second of REM), I am exhausted and just need the day to breeze by so I can come home and crawl back into bed.

Where Mr. Gangly-legs' family will no doubt be waiting for me.