Wednesday, July 11, 2012


Horrible start to the day. Car is dead in the garage. Missed meeting in Hot Springs. Borrowed parent's truck. 15 minutes into my 40 minute commute a MASSIVE spider crawls across the hump in the floor between the seats TOWARDS me (I am horrified of even the thought of a spider). I try to stomp it (which is HIGHLY unusual but the 70 mph traffic on I-30 helps my confidence). I abruptly pull over on the shoulder. While standing up in the driver's seat with butt in the air, I frantically searching for the remains of said spider. I find none. I frantically call mom and dad. Mom says there is nothing she can do and it won't bite me. Dad says it is his friend Fred. There is ZERO humor in either comment. I stand there 10 minutes looking for it (no joke. 10 minutes)...there is no trace of "Fred". 
I hang up with mom mad that she doesn't drive to come find it and kill it. Decide I'm too far away to walk to work so I ever so slowly lower myself in the seat just knowing it is going to crawl up my pant's leg...UGH. I drive the last 25 minutes to work flailing my legs around so it will not crawl up my legs. Finally make it to work...I have an evening meeting...I'm trying to think of a way to bribe and sweet talk mom into coming and picking up the truck so I won't have to drive home the dark...with Fred. 
I seriously need a Xanax. I think I would rather have a 10 lb baby with no drugs than have a spider loose with me in a confined space.

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