The war against the arachnids has taken a turn.
At the beginning of the week, there appeared to be a temporary respite from the onslaught of spiders in the apartment. 3 days went by and I didn’t spot any spiders. Monday, I found one in my room, but it was a small-medium spider and was quickly killed by my handy-dandy Raid. However, while Aaron was over on Wednesday, I found 3 —count ’em –> —3 largish spiders. One in the hallway, another in the kitchen, and a very tricky spider who almost blended into the carpet of the entry stairs. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, my eye has become trained to recognize the slight twitch of a spider and I spotted him immediately.
Then we hit Wednesday. Everything was fine all day long; in fact, I didn’t see any spiders the entire time Aaron was there. It was like the calm of the storm. It was just too quiet. However, when I took Aaron home around 11 PM and returned to work some more on the couch in the living room, the cease-fire was over. I’ve developed an unnatural sense that alerts me to the presence of a spider. As I sat on the couch, reading a manuscript I was editing, the hair stood up on the back of my head. You might say my spidey sense went off. I looked up; I saw, with horror, one of the biggest spiders I had ever seen outside of the Harry Potter movie gliding across the main tile area. I hesitated for a moment, stunned by the horror of it all. It was the hesitation that cost me. I scrambled to my feet, grabbed the Raid bottle that is always within arm’s reach, and stumbled to the hallway. It was almost to the spare bedroom, hurtling into the room. I gave a weak attempt at spraying the beast but my Raid malfunctioned and only let out a weak spray that barely touched it. It requires more than a spritz to knock out one of these big boys. It escaped into the room, immediately concealing itself amongst the many boxes of mine and Aaron’s belongings. Even the idea of beginning a search for the creature made me sick to my stomach. Talk about the worst form of hide ‘n go seek in the history of the universe.
I returned to the living room, stunned and overall overwhelmed. I had tried to be brave and put up a strong front the past week but we finally found the straw that broke the camel’s back. I began to cry, terrified at the thought of staying in the apartment a second longer while my apartment was being overtaken by wild creatures. I hurriedly packed a change of clothes, a few basic hygiene products, shoved my laptop in my backpack, and left the apartment in the dead of night. I’ve been feeding my brother and sister-in-law’s fish while they are at Lake Powell, and so I gratefully escaped to their empty apartment, spider-free and working air conditioning. It took me about 2 hours to finally wind down enough to fall asleep and even then, my dreams were filled with large spiders and ironically enough, telling my family about the horrific experience I just had.
The spiders have won this battle for now. I am going to stay at Jared and Bri’s apartment for a few days while they’re gone so I can study in peace without worrying about any sudden attacks. We’re in the midst of discussions with my landlord and needless to say, professional aid will be forthcoming. I don’t want to be the one running anymore; for once, I want them to be scared of me.
Spiders, if you’re reading this right now, know that it may appear that you have gained the victory, but do not be deceived. I’ll be coming back, and when I do, I’ll be bringing backup. Be scared, my unwanted roommates. Be very afraid.