I Am SUCH a Bitch.

I don't know what's wrong with me.  I've always been scared of spiders.  REALLY scared of spiders.  Well, bugs of any kind, really.  When it comes to my existence at home, to go along with my lack of carpentry or fix-it skills of anytime, my inability to find a job, and the fact that I am the person in the house who not only cooks, but LOVES IT!!!, my fear of bugs really puts a dent in that whole "man of the house" thing.

The problem is that with everything else, I can fake my way through it.  Either I luck out and bumble my way into fixing something, or my in-laws do it when they visit, but either way the stuff gets done.  Jobwise I plough through with odd jobs here and there to go along with unemployment that keeps the trains running on time.  However, the bug thing is one thing that I can't fake.  I'm terrified of creepy crawlies and the kids know it.  The problem is how do I tell them that they shouldn't be afraid of bugs and bees when I'm the bitch running to the sink to get Spider Killer to spray because I refuse to kill it as many others would:

- I don't want to step on it, because I am terrified that I will step on it, but with the arch of the shoe where it will not get smashed, but will then climb around and into the shoe or up my leg.

- I don't want to smash it with a paper towel because I am terrified the thing will bite me through the paper towel or napkin as it's dying.

- I don't want to pick up a shoe and smash it because I'm afraid when I get down to it's level I will miss and it will be one of those jumping spiders and leap onto my face, killing me.

Although I despise the movie "Arachnophobia", I will say this:  Skinny John Goodman has NOTHING on Fat John Goodman.  Fat John Goodman was awesome.

I know, it all sounds stupid.  I'm pretty sure the problem with bees stems from when I was a teenager.  One summer, I'd be in my bed and then all of a sudden get stung by a bee.  This happened for a couple nights in a row.  We chalked it up to a couple bees just being in the house.  That is, until I laid down one day and felt a whole bunch of stinging in my legs at once.  I jumped out of bed, and lifted up the covers.  I'll be honest, it's a sight that to this day I will NEVER forget.  A whole pack of bees.  Squirming, seemingly attached to the sheets.  Aside from the tremendous amount of pain, it was absolutely terrifying, like something out of a Stephen King movie when Stephen King was scary and not doing "The Langoliers", which, by the way, was THE worst tv miniseries I've ever seen.  A bunch of animated Pac Man-looking creatures with teeth gobbling up the Earth.  That's another image I'll never forget.  And if you don't remember them...

Yeah.  This actually AIRED on NETWORK TELEVISION, people.

Anyway, I had been stung so much that I started breaking out all over from the evil bee sting juice injected into my legs all at once, and had to go to the hospital for the anti-evil bee sting juice antidote.  It was awful and to this day I run from bees because who knows if I'm still allergic or not.  It turns out that the window was cracked all summer for air, and the bees had built a hive right inside the window.  What they were all doing in the bed is beyond me but it was such a frightening experience that I didn't sleep in my bed for weeks until my dad could guarantee me there were no more bees.  But even worse than my hatred for bees is my full-on arachnophobia.  To be honest, I didn't even want to google "John Goodman Arachnophobia" for the photo because I didn't even want a picture of one of those big ass spiders from the movie to pop on my screen and scare the shit out of me.  Anyway, I am still shaking as I am typing this, because of what just happened downstairs in the basement.  I was in the storage room, which is filled with all sorts of boxes and Christmas trees and other junk.  As I was looking for something, I turned my head and saw the biggest spider I've ever seen in my life.  Holy shit.  I froze.  I just looked at it.  Even if I wanted to I couldn't step on it because I only was wearing socks.  If it came in my direction, I was dead. I was so scared that you wouldn't believe.  You're talking to a guy who has jumped out of a plane before, and yet my legs were weaker at this moment than they were when I was standing up at 13,000 feet.  Now thankfully, I think the spider thought I was a real man, and took off in the other direction.  It seemed like it was going to stand still, so I ran upstairs, grabbed the Spider Killer, then came back downstairs, and put on some shoes in preparation for the battle.

Unfortunately, however, by the time I got done putting on my armor and readying my weapon, when I crept back into the storage room, the spider was gone.  I was mortified.  Now, like a homeowner who's eyes have been duct taped during a home invasion, I had no idea where this big, black bastard was.  And I still had to search for what I was looking for in the first place.  I had the Spider Killer in my hand, looking on the walls, under the water heater, any place that spider could be.  It was nervewracking.  And when I couldn't find him, I slowly went towards the back of the storage room to continue my initial search for what I was looking for.  I tore through the boxes with the speed of a 16 year old who has sex for the first time.  By this time, I was shaking uncontrollably.  I kept looking in a box, then on the floor for the spider.  In a box, on the floor.  I probably was in there all of 15 seconds because I felt like the spider was in there waiting.  If he came up behind me I'd have probably frozen up and not even been able to use the Spider Killer.  This is how bad I am.  Finally I gave up on what I was looking for and ran out of there.  However, now I was even more scared than I was to start, because now I know that this big, huge spider is in here.  This terrifies me for many reasons.

- Now he can find a home in one of the boxes down there, and the next time I go in there looking for something he'll be there, and will bite me and probably kill me with his poison.

- He could crawl out of the storage room and into the main area of the basement where he'll be waiting for me to watch football next Sunday.  Christ, he could lurk on the couch bed under the covers.  He could be in my next case of beer.  Good God, I don't know if I can ever go back down there.

- He could crawl up the wall and into a pipe or something and make it into the main house area.  He could be anywhere.  In the sink.  In the bathroom.  In the living room.  IN MY BED.  My God.  He could crawl in my mouth while I'm sleeping.  I'm officially in panic mode.

- He could be a SHE.  And since I didn't kill her, she could have been so large because she was pregnant and will now give birth to a million more spiders just like her.  Okay, things are very clear to me now.  I will never go in that storage room again.  Either someone else will have to go down there or we're not having a Christmas tree this year.

Now I feel like things are crawling on me and I'm itching and afraid.  It's the worst.  I just want this thing to come out so I can kill it.  SHOW YOURSELF YOU UNHOLY BASTARD!!!!  COME OUT AND FIGHT!!!

You know what...you may be saying to yourself, "Good Lord is Shaun a bitch."  And some of you will undoubtedly email me and comment here saying, "Good Lord are you a bitch."  To that I say shut your non-spiderfearing mouths.  This is a legitimate problem, people.  What should I do? Hypnosis? Bigger shoes? Buy a tool belt where I can keep the Spider Killer attached to my hip at all times?  What I really need to know is how long spiders live.  Is it days, weeks or months?  The answer will help me get through this.  Wait a minute, is that him!?!?!  Oh.  No, it's just a piece of fuzz.  Crap is this going to be a long few days, weeks or months.