so black and shiny
the holiday arachnid
is not met with joy
Here’s something I learned about myself today: When I scream, it is not the blood-curdling slasher movie scream that so many girls and women are good at. I tend to whoop. Which is kind of nice, but it doesn’t garner the attention you need when say, you’re sitting in the shower (I was tired) and you notice a SCORPION crawling on your FOOT and you SLAP IT like and IDIOT and piss it off so that it comes after you with tail raised and you are trapped in a confined, stand-up shower whooping your head off, but no one hears you or takes any notice because you are not piercing the quiet holiday morning with actual Halloween part XVI screams.
So you have to leap out of the shower, soaking wet and nekkid, and run, hollering, out of the bathroom and into the living room and shout for someone, anyone to please come remove the creature from your formerly peaceful shower.
And someone does. Which is nice. But now all you can think of is that you were sitting on the floor of your shower with SCORPIONS crawling around and that maybe it’s time to start wearing contacts again so that you can see the creepy-crawlies that want to eat you, but then again, wouldn’t that just freak you out more? So you decide to never, ever sit in the shower again, which sucks, because you are tired all the time and it’s nice to let the water bang on your head until you wake up enough to stand up with falling down.
At least it didn’t sting me. Remember when that happened?