Yesterday, everything I touched went on the fritz. No really. I tried to check my email on my work laptop before running for the bus and its security system locked me out and needs to come in to IT before I can access it. My work Blackberry has reset its password and I have no idea what it is. The repair guy can look at it next week. BC came over for pizza and TV last night. All of a sudden, the TV refuses to stay on and turns itself repeatedly on and off unless it’s unplugged. And my personal laptop, which was my fall-back option is running like molasses and wants to be rebooted every few minutes for one update or another.
After BC had given up and gone home, I moved on to housekeeping since my toys all refused to play with me. I packed up my fabric for sewing class tonight, put away the dinner dishes and headed into the bathroom. And there in my shower was this:
Let’s say it, ahem, startled me a bit. At about 3 inches in each direction and meaty, this spider was a real contender. And I’m not squeamish about bugs. My regular policy is to let them be unless they are flies, ants, or roaches (which must be vigilantly killed on sight). Or to scoot them out the door. But this one, well, it suspended the usual rules. Right around when I went to scoop it up, it turned around, looked at me, and reared up on its back legs. Game over.
I tried pouring water on it, which made it look dead. But it just dried off and kept crawling. Then I tried a chemical assault- first rubbing alcohol and then hydrogen peroxide. No luck- even after repeated direct hits. So, I turned my back on my enemy, grabbed a newspaper and whacked him hard.
AND HE LIVED.
But the fifth whack did it. At least I think so. I scooped him up so fast and into the trash when he went still that I didn’t have time to check his pulse. If he crawled out and is sitting at the dining room table smoking a pipe when I get home, I swear, I will move in with a friend and let him keep the place.
So after that little adventure in independent living, I was ready to do some writing and hit the hay. But there was a knock at the door. Now, I don’t have drop-in visitors. Ever. My friends are the kind of people who call ahead if they’re going to be in the neighborhood. In case I’m out, or busy, or cooking bacon in a prom gown and listening to sad country music (we’ve all been there…). But nonetheless, knocking.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear? The ex. Delightful. All of my electronics are broken, I’ve just played gladiator with the Tarantula King, it’s approximately 900 degrees in my un-airconditioned house, and now I’m getting visits from the ex. Who just stopped by to tell me that our wedding which never happened was on the ol’ brain. Really?!? Interesting. I’ve never thought about it once. Your emotions are so unique and profound. Which is why I kept the conversation on the front stoop and brief. And ended with my favorite refrain- “No. There is no chance we will ever be together again. Ever. None. Go home to your girlfriend. Goodbye.”
So, you’ll have to excuse me if I’m feeling a little less than rested today. And if the ex ever drops by again, I may have to break out the newspaper.
A few good whacks does the trick every time.