Barenaked Ladies, 5.10.06
I must first start by saying this reference is bringing me back, way back, to my college days...where yes, I will admit, I adored the Barenaked Ladies (a certain gentleman friend was heavy into them, which made me guilty by association).
At any rate, they have a song called "There's a Spider in My Room" and it won't stop tormenting me. Mainly because I had yet ANOTHER unpleasant encounter...this time, at work. I swear they're following me...
...and my boss just said I make a schitzophrenic look like a realist.
I noticed a HUGE, I mean fucking H U G E daddy-long-legs crawling up the wall of my office. This wasn't your ordinary, run-of-the-mill daddy-long-legs though....no tiny little body with big long legs (hence...the name...I digress) but rather a body the size of my fist and legs longer than mine. This bastard could have very well been wearing a pinstriped Pierre Cardin double-breasted suit for all I know...I didn't want to get that close.
I followed him with my eyes, and had another mental conversation with him. "Ok, man...I'm gonna let you go about your business...you stay on that side of the room, I'll stay on my side...and all will be well with the world." He didn't listen.
So I turned my "inside" voice into a full out roar. At this point, one of the supervisors that works with me came into the situation.
"What the fuck are you yelling at???" he says, remarking on my rants to what seems like a bare, light pink wall of concrete. He realizes what's going on, and of course, begins to torture me. He throws candy wrappers at it. He blows on it (at this point it's hangning from the ceiling...right above me). He fans it with a paper plate. The spider appears to be laughing at him.
Finally, he comes to my rescue and cups the spider in a plasitc glass, and I follow him outside where he plans to free it. Just to make sure, I have to watch, 8-step by 8-step, this monstrosity walk the opposite direction of my office.
I literally almost passed out, threw up, and ran for my life at the same time. Sick. Now of course, I'm plagued with the idea that they're crawling all over me...in my hair, down my pants, around my ears. The tingle isn't such a "good" tingle as it is incredibly terrifying. I want a good tingle, dammit.
Which leads me to my point...why am I seeing spiders almost on a daily basis? Sure, it's springtime, and they're out in full-fledge, trying to do what spiders do....eat other things that come out in springtime. But this is getting ridiculous.
Being the type of person I am, of course I'm looking for some greater meaning to their appearances. I read somewhere that seeing spiders often means that I will be blessed with creativity and good luck. Well, neither of those have really come to me as of late....mainly the latter of the two. But I'm hoping that it's not just another one of God's sick, twisted jokes on me...because since I'm only "afraid" of spiders and adult clowns, I certainly don't want to know what he's gonna plant on me next. So help me, if I'm visited by an adult clown any time in the near future, I will surely be committed for the rest of my natural-born life. (Are straight-jackets slimming? Just wondering...)
Great, now I've got visions of grown men dressed as clowns peering in my windows late at night.
Apparently, I do make a schitzophrenic look like a realist.
At any rate, they have a song called "There's a Spider in My Room" and it won't stop tormenting me. Mainly because I had yet ANOTHER unpleasant encounter...this time, at work. I swear they're following me...
...and my boss just said I make a schitzophrenic look like a realist.
I noticed a HUGE, I mean fucking H U G E daddy-long-legs crawling up the wall of my office. This wasn't your ordinary, run-of-the-mill daddy-long-legs though....no tiny little body with big long legs (hence...the name...I digress) but rather a body the size of my fist and legs longer than mine. This bastard could have very well been wearing a pinstriped Pierre Cardin double-breasted suit for all I know...I didn't want to get that close.
I followed him with my eyes, and had another mental conversation with him. "Ok, man...I'm gonna let you go about your business...you stay on that side of the room, I'll stay on my side...and all will be well with the world." He didn't listen.
So I turned my "inside" voice into a full out roar. At this point, one of the supervisors that works with me came into the situation.
"What the fuck are you yelling at???" he says, remarking on my rants to what seems like a bare, light pink wall of concrete. He realizes what's going on, and of course, begins to torture me. He throws candy wrappers at it. He blows on it (at this point it's hangning from the ceiling...right above me). He fans it with a paper plate. The spider appears to be laughing at him.
Finally, he comes to my rescue and cups the spider in a plasitc glass, and I follow him outside where he plans to free it. Just to make sure, I have to watch, 8-step by 8-step, this monstrosity walk the opposite direction of my office.
I literally almost passed out, threw up, and ran for my life at the same time. Sick. Now of course, I'm plagued with the idea that they're crawling all over me...in my hair, down my pants, around my ears. The tingle isn't such a "good" tingle as it is incredibly terrifying. I want a good tingle, dammit.
Which leads me to my point...why am I seeing spiders almost on a daily basis? Sure, it's springtime, and they're out in full-fledge, trying to do what spiders do....eat other things that come out in springtime. But this is getting ridiculous.
Being the type of person I am, of course I'm looking for some greater meaning to their appearances. I read somewhere that seeing spiders often means that I will be blessed with creativity and good luck. Well, neither of those have really come to me as of late....mainly the latter of the two. But I'm hoping that it's not just another one of God's sick, twisted jokes on me...because since I'm only "afraid" of spiders and adult clowns, I certainly don't want to know what he's gonna plant on me next. So help me, if I'm visited by an adult clown any time in the near future, I will surely be committed for the rest of my natural-born life. (Are straight-jackets slimming? Just wondering...)
Great, now I've got visions of grown men dressed as clowns peering in my windows late at night.
Apparently, I do make a schitzophrenic look like a realist.
posted by Elle Dee at 1:30 PM
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