The thing about spiders is, you're minding your own business going on with your day and BAM. No warning, one is just suddenly right up in your face. For example, I was standing at my bedroom window, opening the blinds and came face to face with this guy. (Kelley my love, look away now.)
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YOU'RE WELCOME, AMERICA!
Spiders make me doubt the existence of a Divine Creator because why. WHY? I literally came face to face with this guy, screamed, turned, fell over, kamikaze crawled, got up, and bolted from the room. There was nothing else to be done - I had to ring Dave and tell him to come home from a busy day at work and deal with it. The whole house was soiled.
Dave gets SO annoyed by my arachnid terror.
"You're creating what you fear, hon. You're drawing them to you."
To that I simply say - BULL. SHIT. A series of unfortunate spider events happened when I was a kid, with an extremely terrifying stint stuck with one while I was sitting on the toilet for about half an hour. I couldn't move and couldn't speak.
Dave was a champ, came home straight away because he heard the terror in my voice. I made him kill it, which I do feel bad for but if he just lets them outside they come back in.
He took all these pics while I was out in the hall, wringing my hands.
"See hon ... it's tiny!"
Again I say, BULL. SHIT.
You scared of anything?
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Spiders make me doubt the existence of a Divine Creator because why. WHY? I literally came face to face with this guy, screamed, turned, fell over, kamikaze crawled, got up, and bolted from the room. There was nothing else to be done - I had to ring Dave and tell him to come home from a busy day at work and deal with it. The whole house was soiled.
"You're creating what you fear, hon. You're drawing them to you."
To that I simply say - BULL. SHIT. A series of unfortunate spider events happened when I was a kid, with an extremely terrifying stint stuck with one while I was sitting on the toilet for about half an hour. I couldn't move and couldn't speak.
Dave was a champ, came home straight away because he heard the terror in my voice. I made him kill it, which I do feel bad for but if he just lets them outside they come back in.
He took all these pics while I was out in the hall, wringing my hands.
"See hon ... it's tiny!"
Again I say, BULL. SHIT.
You scared of anything?
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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell