A new neighbor moved in recently and it’s becoming a real problem for me, because the “neighbor” is actually a spider the size of my finger and I am not a petite-handed woman.
It lives on the landing outside our back door and initially built its web across the entire stairwell so I had to destroy its house in order to get downstairs to the washing machine. Ugh. I don’t like spiders at the best of times and this was not the best of times. This spider is the size of my fist. I’m afraid it’s going to come after my home if I bug it again.
Case in point, today it has rebuilt its web and now it’s closer to my door. It’s not blocking my laundry path anymore but I do have to walk right next to it and have it sitting there in its web watching me, a spider the size of my head, ready at any moment to pounce and crawl on me. I managed to pass it the first time with my load of laundry but I almost couldn’t make myself pass it again to get back inside. I mean, the thing is the size of my torso. I would have just spent the rest of the day in the basement except it occurred to me there might be more of them around.
So now I am just waiting for Gene to come home, because this spider is bigger than I am and as the largest person in our household I think it’s his job to deal with it. Or we can just forget about the clothes in the washing machine. I didn’t like those clothes anyway. I like new clothes. The spider can have those old ones, if they’re even big enough to fit it.
If anyone’s feeling brave in the Castro area before 6 today, feel free to come kill my spider. But I warn you, it’s the size of a studio apartment.
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