It was a dark and stormy night...Just kidding. Actually, it was a bright and sunny morning. I, having just arrived home from my three 12-hr night shifts walked exhausted, into the bathroom. What I saw there will stay with me forever. *Cue chilling music* There, in the bottom of MY shower was the first spider I had seen in my apartment. I was instantly frightened and repulsed by the black monster. Though it was in reality rather puny, in my sleep deprived brain it became larger then life. I was outraged of the nerve of this, this, THING being in MY house and especially in such a private space as MY bathroom. I knew that I had to kill it. I couldn't leave it only to wonder for the rest of my life where it was lurking. I decided to spray it with Lysol, hoping against hope that it might die instantly from the chemicals. Much to my chagrin, this did not work. I quickly looked around the bathroom to find something to use to kill it. I couldn't use a tissue because I would have to get my hand too close, and I instantly ruled out such things as my shampoo bottles because I wasn't sure I was up to wiping spider guts off of something I use so frequently and I couldn't just throw away my only bottle of shampoo when the deed was done. The Lysol can I used to spray it had a curved bottom- not ideal. Scanning again my eyes settled upon the container of Lysol wipes. (Yes, I know that wipes and spray are a little excessive. Yes, I am somewhat of a germ freak). Summoning all of my courage I emitted a throaty wail and bludgeoned that tiny nemesis. I covered up the remains with the lysol container and crawled into bed (after checking for spiders, of course). Unfortunately, the stress of killing the beast kept me from much needed sleep for an hour or more.
Since then, I have seen four more spiders. I killed one with a broom, one I rinsed down the sink, the other was in a crack between the flooring and the bathroom and I am hoping that the fourth was really the third from the crack... since my friend found and killed it last night in the kitchen. It has been just as traumatic each time, proving that overexposure does not help get rid of phobias.
