Always One Foot on the Ground

Nightmares. Things with 6 or more legs freak me out a little bit. I wouldnt call this a phobia, but seeing anything honeycomb-shaped, even just the pattern in architecture or something, makes me want to brush my arms off to make sure I’m not harboring an infestation of wasps and hide in a well-lit corner. Hairy spiders have the same effect.

I think this all started as a lifeguard. Every morning when I went in to clean the pool I’d empty skimmer baskets, clean the scum-tiles, vacuum, and/or various other possible cleaning activities. One time I scooped a large spider out of the corner of the deep end using a my scrub pad like usual when there were spiders or beetles or something. Usually if the spider was big enough or hairy enough I would spray it with my bottle of cleaner to send it straight to the fiery pits of spider hell. This one was no tarantula, but I’d describe it as big and hairy… so I sprayed it. What ensued can’t be put as merely, “a living nightmare that will haunt me for the rest of my mature adult life.”

Having felt the first spray of my blue-tinted shower-of-acid tile cleaner, big momma spider birthed hundreds (HUNDREDS) of bastard demon spider babies, pouring them from her loins like an army of vampire Spartans engulfing the shores of Troy. Imagine those videos of ant colonies in the jungle that are just massive - except imagine that highway of ants as a scattering of spider juveniles, scattering to survive after the demise of their 8-legged freakish mother. Fuck spiders. And fuck both of these stories.

I’m haunted by all their little spider souls that wander all over my body as ghosts.

(Source: shitbloggerssay, via the-absolute-funniest-posts)