Monday, June 03, 2013

My Own Private Arachnophobic Hell

I have phobias.  Phobias are not simply fears.  I am afraid of dogs.  I am afraid of mustard.  I realize that both of these items are generally harmless and, when left alone, are unlikely to hurt me.  I avoid dogs when I can, but if in the presence of an otherwise tame dog, I tolerate its existence.  I have even come to enjoy a select handful of dogs, although from a distance.  Mustard... eew.  Just eew.

My biggest phobia is of spiders.  I am not just afraid and willing to tolerate them.  I am panic-attack-rendered phobic.  I don't like little plastic fake spiders at Halloween.  I don't like drawings or paintings of them.  I don't like the sensation of fingers moving gently over my skin because it reminds me of them.  If I see a spider, no matter how innocuous, chilling on the wall across the room from me, there aren't enough tranquilizers in the world to calm me down.  If there is one near me, oh HELL no.  To lighten a common phrase, "bat crap crazy" doesn't come close to my outbursts (generally a form of "killitkillitkillitKillitKILLIT!").

Last weekend, an exterminator was in our neighborhood going door-to-door.  Our neighbors had inquired about extermination due to the number of pests they've had in their house, and the exterminator stopped by our house to tell us all about his "great deal" on spraying our property.  Pish posh, I normally say to traveling salesmen (not really, I usually just close the door), but this guy offered a free home inspection with no obligation.  He went under our house, walked all around outside, and even checked in my pantry.  Though we'd had some ants in there a few weeks ago, some traps had taken care of the problem quickly.  After the inspection, The Man and I learned that no only do our neighbors host a small hobo spider infestation, but we have a comb-footed spider problem under our house (they are relatives of the black widow spider).  We also had wasp nests in our eaves, which we knew about and had sprayed, and ants, which we also knew about, and lots and lots of beetles. *shudder

Not so pish posh now, is he?  We signed right up.  Spray the crap out of our house.  Poison the insect world into oblivion.  I don't care what it takes, kill them all.

But it gets better!  Now that we've had our house sprayed, the creepycrawlies are not happy in their current homes.  They are now migrating inside our house to get away from the geranium oil (or whatever "natural" pesticides were used) and are hoping to cohabitate with furry kitties and terrified humans.  Well, petrified human and mildly annoyed human (although I think he's more annoyed at me than he is with the bugs).  The pest people--who are not pests themselves--tell us the invasion could last a month.

Sleep takes forever to come as I am constantly on guard watching the walls and floors and sheets and OH MY GOSH WHAT IS THAT BY THE BED!? Lint.  Just lint.  Calm down.  Go back to sleep.

I am now living in my very own arachnophobic hell.

4 comments:

The Man said...

if this is your own private hell, does that make me St Michael the Arch Spider-Slayer?

The Randomaestro said...

Don't ever come to Japan then...

The Randomaestro said...

Don't ever come to Japan then...

Gee Don said...

Lol! I love this post! I would so be the same way..