Friday, July 27, 2012

I have good news for you. The war has begun.

Sooooo we have a bit of a spider problem in my apartment right now. Aaron's trying to convince me that this is only temporary as no one has lived in the apartment in about 3 months and spiders had moved in during that period. That's possible, but in my mind, it's much more than that. It's an invasion.

I was getting ready to go to school, right about to walk out the door when I saw another medium spider (I now label the spiders as Goldilocks does) in my entryway. I really hate killing spiders so I thought that maybe I'd trap it! I hurried over to the kitchen, grabbed a tupperware and gingerly placed it over the spider. As I watched cowardly from the couch in the other room, I began to watch it pace the counter in panic until it had found its way out of the container. Impossible! I knew one thing for sure. I could not let that spider leave alive. I stalked the spider as it mischievously skirted the room right next to the wall, waiting until it was out in the open. That's when I pounced, a shoe in my hand, letting out a pitiful shriek as I hit it. Dead. I carefully placed the tupperware back over the carcass and rushed to school. I was weak at this time, scared, but I was growing stronger.

I sent a pitiful text message to Aaron, asking him to help me stop the invasion. When I was away last night, Aaron sprayed the apartment with Raid and thankfully killed all of the spiders that made their way out of the holes in the walls as a result. When he left last night, I didn't feel as scared as I did before! I had a weapon in my hand: Raid. As I was getting up off the couch at 12:30 to go to bed, I spotted a big spider jogging across the tile. I grabbed my spray bottle of pain and sprayed the living daylights out of the thing watching it curl up in the puddle of poison. It was strangely empowering.

I carry Raid with me in every room in the house now. When I go to the kitchen to make a piece of toast, go to bathroom to brush my teeth and when I go to my closet to pick out a new outfit. Like a cowboy carrying his pistol everywhere he goes in case he gets into a shootout, I likewise carry my Raid, ready at every turn to kill another beast. I don't think the war is over. No, it may not be even close to really beginning. But I'm no longer weak and unwilling to protect myself. Spiders beware, there's a new sheriff in this apartment. Now if only I can find a holster to hold my Raid bottle.

2 comments:

Aaron Taylor said...

For some reason, every time you used "Raid" I read "Reid," which changes the story dramatically.

Rachel Taylor said...

Ha ha! A little bit different meaning there.