There’s a spider living up near the ceiling of my closet. He’s been there for at least a week and in spite of my manifest arachnophobia I have made no attempt to kill him. He lives up there quietly, in the earnest hope that one day a fly or something will wander into the bedroom, and I live down here quietly, in the earnest hope that he won’t drop on my head. He doesn’t, and I let him stay. I think I’ve grown as a person.
Not literally grown, of course. If I had, I would be tall enough to squash that fucker and I’d have to find something else to blog about.