Spiders.
I'm not particularly fond of them, but for the most part I understand that being afraid of them is a little irrational. That is, until tonight.
I was in my laundry room, which was basically a storage area for the past month as we attempted to get the house set up after recently moving in. I had been cleaning the house for over five hours and was already pretty exhausted.
My step mom called me and I was attempting to talk to her on the phone while hanging some lights in the laundry room. All of the sudden I felt something on my arm, looked down and saw a spider the size of an American quarter, black and hairy.
Needless to say, I freaked the fuck out. I started screaming and flailing about, hoping to get the little bitch off of me. In fact, I was flailing so much that I pulled my muscle in my shoulder and couldn't move my arm for almost an hour!
I ended up taking off my shirt, throwing it into the other room, and now I'm afraid to leave the couch because I know that big bastard is just crawling around somewhere, waiting to strike again!
