feeeeelings from my bloggie

Mike started a blog yesterday and that made me mad cause bloggies are my thing and he's always trying to take my things. Instead of punching him in his sleep like I usually do I decided the only way to fight fire with fire is to write my bloggie more. HA take that!

I just killed a spider at work today and it's always such an ordeal. I hate spiders. I know, I know I hate many things. Too many some people/jerks might say. I suppose I should rephrase then and say that spiders scare the bejeesus out of me. Sometimes I think it's cause they move so fast but then I see slow ones and they scare me even more. I can't really put my finger on why they scare me so much really, but they do. Give me a bed of snakes any day. So, anyway, I was struggling with my cabinet door that sticks and the whole thing rolled a little and a spider ran out. I immediately went into panic mode. The thing that goes hand in hand with me hating spiders is the fact that killing a spider makes me feel bad. Killing anything makes me feel bad. When I was little I used to run out onto our driveway after it rained and throw worms back into the yard cause I was sad that they were out there all exposed. To this day if I see a worm struggling on a sidewalk I'll try to get it back to the dirt. I'm not lying - I did it at the park the other day. What can I say, I'm a weirdo. I feel empathy for EVERYTHING non-human. It's one of my weaknesses.

So I'm standing there in a panic cause there is a spider running towards my chair but I don't want to kill it. Conversely, I also can't capture it and throw it outside cause that would require me to get close to said spider and that is an impossibility. For a split second I feel like screaming and running away is my best option. I'm at work tho, and that would be ridiculous. I stifle my scream and my mind races, I have to make a decision. The spider must have decided the chair wasn't a viable option because he (yes all spiders are he's) is now running towards my purse. MY PURSE for christ sakes. I spot a stack of papers waiting for the shredder. That's it! I'll put that heavy paper on it and if the spider was killed, so be it. It wasn't actually me that was killing it then. It was the paper. I threw the stack down on it and the spider didn't crawl out the other end. It was over. A wave of guilt washed over me. In fact, as I write this now I feel terrible. Hopefully sharing this with you all will absolve the guilt just a little bit but it probably won't. Maybe I should go to a hypnotist and have him/her make me think that spiders are as cute as little puppies. Then if I saw one I would just pick it up and cuddle it.

I just almost passed out while typing that.