The spiders continue to take over the yard. A few days after I posted about walking face-first into the spider web, it happened again. The event was identical up to and including the hysterical flailing.
You would think that it would be safe to open the back door and walk a few steps without running into a web, wouldn’t you? It’s not like I was digging through boxes in the attic where spiders have time to set up camp. This is a well-traveled pathway after all.
After clearing off the remnants of web, I decided that it was time to hunt down the offender. I turned on the outside light and saw part of the web with a big Wolf spider that must have already started the process of rebuilding. I knocked it down with a broom determined to actually kill the little bastard once and for all. I couldn’t find a body but thought maybe I got him. I think you know where I am going with this.
I didn’t get him and it happened again. I then decided that the only rational course of action is to assume that there is always the possibility of a spider web in front of my face. Now when walking from the house to the car at night, I must wave my arms in front of my face as if I am autistic. So now I am afraid of spiders and I have developed an unusual tic. Great.
Last night I walked out the back door using my newly discovered anti-spider autistic arm wave when I realized in horror that I had just put my hand into the Wolf spider’s web. Before I could stop myself I was doing some sort of weird Ninja kick to get it off of me. I like to think it was pretty graceful, despite my lack of formal Ninja training. On some level I must have been thinking, “ It’s better to touch a spider with your shoe! Use the shoe!” That’s the only thing I can think of to explain making such a spectacle of myself every time I leave the house, for God’s sake! If I start feeling compelled to utter random words like “metal” or “son-of-a-bitch” then I am definitely getting myself some medication. I can only hope that no one has seen this display.
Fortunately my next-door neighbor has a bad case of OCD and is too busy repeatedly touching every electrical appliance in the house to worry about what I am up to.