I’m awake at this late hour because I found a spider in my bedroom, beat it to death with a paperback book (“the mummy” by anne rice, if you wondered), scared Dragon with the commotion and now every little twinge makes me think I have one crawling on me and I’m totally freaked out.
I detest spiders, if you couldn’t guess, although I’ve been forced to make an easy peace with them since moving to the Land o’ Many Trees. Mostly I leave them undisturbed, especially if they seem to be no eminent threat, but recently the house has seen an invasion of these hardy black bastards and I just can’t take it.
The first one popped out of my washcloth – on to my hand (!) which was coincidentally not too far from my face, forcing me to drown it in the sink. The second showed up behind my scrubbie (!!) when I was preparing for a shower. I actually grabbed my stuff and showered in a different bathroom to avoid that one. Now, this third interloper crawled out of one of Dragon’s blankets while I was scratching his ears. The waggling of its eight, meaty legs merited death by literature.
A quick google tells me that certain spices and oils are natural repellents. Coincidentally I am in possession of some natural flea and tick spray containing those same ingredients. It covers the house in a noxious layer of cinnamon, but I’m willing to live with it if the damned arachnids just go away.
I like my sleep. I need my sleep. The vermin must be stopped.