I spent last night killing spiders. They weren't in my house, god forbid, but in my mind. Every time I fell asleep I'd find myself stomping spiders, who only grew bigger the more you stomped them. Then, the cockroaches would start coming out of the light sockets and electrical outlets. They were industrial strength cockroaches with armour
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Some of that makes sense. I'm in need of a career change and I've been procrastinating making it.
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When I was a very small child, one day I awoke to find I had a small sore on my finger. It didn't really hurt. It looked like something had come along with a very, very tiny ice cream scoop...
The next night, I awoke (for no apparent reason), and there... Sitting in the middle of the bedspread... Was a tiny grey spider.
Watching me.
Waiting.
Watching with its eight eyes.
Waiting.
Watching.
Eventually it wandered off, and I turned off the light and went back to sleep.
I've never had a problem with spiders since. I don't kill them out of principle. Even the time where a Brown Recluse hitched a bus ride on me left me unphased. (not so the people I showed it to) I am content to leave the spider on the ceiling, or the wall; for, as they say, a house with out spiders is a sign of a sick and unhealthy house, and they are welcome to whatever bugs they find.
For rarely are we any more than a few feet away from a spider.
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