Yeah, okay, so Zoo’s away (I think I just rhymed and I didn’t mean to, but it’s 5AM and I’m not really seeing straight anyway) and it’s been fine with the kid and the dog and stuff for the past few nights.  And last night, the kid decided that she only needed to sleep for an hour and wake up and so I put Elmo on and settled in with an old Linda Howard for comfort because I hadn’t written all day and Linda Howard never fails to inspire me.

And Gus is all kind of running around and knocking his bed across the room for no reason and I finally get him settled on my bed where he procedes to squash my legs.  The kid was already squashing me because we’re all together because Zoo’s away and I realize now that this is crazy on my end but it’s too late to change.

So then something catches my eye and I look up at the ceiling and there is a spider up there.

I’ll let that settle in for a moment.  Because those of you who’ve been reading this blog for a while (or Writeminded) know that I cannot handle spiders or crickets.  (Or butterflies, but that’s more of a gross me out thing and I could deal with a butterfly in the house, because even though it’s a worm with wings, I know it won’t kill me. ) But the crickets at least stay in the basement, while the spiders seem to feel they can have run of the house.  I’m guessing the warm weather brought them all out of the woodwork.

So, it’s kind of right to the side of the bed – I can’t reach it.  I can throw a shoe at it until it falls but it could fall on the bed and that wouldn’t be good.

And it’s staring at me.  Black and white and tarantuala-sized.

Okay, maybe not that big.  Maybe.

And I’m like, okay, I can do this…it will move away and I can live and let live and it won’t eat me while I sleep.

And THEN I look at the big light that hangs over the bed and there is ANOTHER spider, crawling around.  It’s like a spider family reunion and Arachnophobia (which is a surprisingly funny movie) all at once.

I now realize I could die.

Gus, of course, is no help, as he has not even bothered to wake up and realize that we are in imminent danger.  I think about texting Zoo and telling him to come home immediately, but figured by the time he got home from Florida it wouldn’t work in my favor.  Of course, I did text him with a scream about spiders.

Anyway, so in a moment of brilliance (these do not come often, trust me) I race downstairs for the vacuum.  I hate our vacuum – it’s a canister and a pain in the ass but I haul it up the stairs and turn it on and get close to ceiling spider.  It knows it’s going to die and doesn’t try to fight the suction.  The other one on the light is still running and romping and playing until it sees me with the hose – then it goes still and gets sucked into the void.

Of course, then I worry that they will escape at night and bring the rest of the spider family to my ceiling to kill me.  I know they’re sitting in the vacuum bag, plotting.  I’m totally going to need a new vacuum.  And Zoo can’t ever leave the house again, unless he leaves behind someone to kill the spiders.