Spider tales
Jan. 17th, 2010 10:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephbgI take drugs. Prescription ones--all strictly legal--but the sleeping pills occasionally provoke interesting moments. If the timing is right I get to do things that I don't quite remember the next day. The most recent example involved a large 'orrible 'airy spider, which then led me today to an act of short-lived bravado and high-pitched screaming.
One night I stayed up past my bed time, so was a little bit, 'ow you say, off my face. I walked into the bedroom and saw a large ('orrible 'airy) spider on the bed. I calmly scooped it up on my hand and carried it outside. No flinching, no squirming, no bravado.
This memory was so untrustworthy that I had to check in with Husband, but apparently I did it. I have these whole spare personalities just lying around in my head.
Cut to today. I'm in the laundry and I spy a sporty and tiny velvety spider on the floor. I'm, what, a billion times bigger than it? I cling to the dreamy memory of fearlessness in the face of eight-leggedness and decide to ignore it. It's wandering about and seems to be heading away. I stepped forward, my foot landing about eight inches from the little beastie.
Which immediately sprints directly toward my foot.
I scream like a girl. It's OK, I'm a girl.
I'm not usually a screamer. I'm a yelper, but Husband reports that this utterance was unusually high pitched, and sounded much more like panic than simple startlement. I don't believe I've ever made the transition from courage to animal fear quite so quickly.
It was such a little spider :-(
One night I stayed up past my bed time, so was a little bit, 'ow you say, off my face. I walked into the bedroom and saw a large ('orrible 'airy) spider on the bed. I calmly scooped it up on my hand and carried it outside. No flinching, no squirming, no bravado.
This memory was so untrustworthy that I had to check in with Husband, but apparently I did it. I have these whole spare personalities just lying around in my head.
Cut to today. I'm in the laundry and I spy a sporty and tiny velvety spider on the floor. I'm, what, a billion times bigger than it? I cling to the dreamy memory of fearlessness in the face of eight-leggedness and decide to ignore it. It's wandering about and seems to be heading away. I stepped forward, my foot landing about eight inches from the little beastie.
Which immediately sprints directly toward my foot.
I scream like a girl. It's OK, I'm a girl.
I'm not usually a screamer. I'm a yelper, but Husband reports that this utterance was unusually high pitched, and sounded much more like panic than simple startlement. I don't believe I've ever made the transition from courage to animal fear quite so quickly.
It was such a little spider :-(
