He's Back

He's back.

Damn it.

Not Listening

Obviously Harry paid no attention to yesterday's post and was in fact upset by it, because not only is he still there, he looks a little bigger than he was yesterday...

Go Away Harry!

You may recall that a while ago I admitted to an embarrassingly girly phobia of huntsman spiders. Well, since then we haven’t had any in the house (thankfully). However, recently one of these hairy little monsters has crawled out from its home behind the illuminated exit sign above the door to my office.

I work in an office full of men, all of whom have refused to get rid of the spider, and have instead named it Harry. Harry is only tiny, which I think prevents a total meltdown on my part, but every day I’m forced to walk underneath him and every day I get that strange chill up the back of my neck thinking that he might just choose that very moment to let go of the wall and free-fall onto my head.

Why is it that these little beasts always choose to loiter above doorways? Will he leave on his own, or will i have this horrible feeling every time i walk in and out of my office for the rest of my life?

Go away Harry!

My Secret Shame

Look, I’m going to be honest and come right out and say it.

I don't like spiders.

My secret shame is revealed.

Yes, I know, it's not unusual for a female to hate spiders, but I’m not normally the sort of woman who gives in to stereotypical female behaviours, so this is a big deal for me. Having said that, let me tell you that of all the things to be scared of in Australia, being afraid of spiders is closer to the rational end of the fear list than it is to the irrational.

Recently we had a few trees cut down in our backyard, and unfortunately they were gum trees, which are often home to Australia's most lovable bug - the huntsman spider.

We've had FOUR of these suckers in our house over the last two weeks and they have been the biggest that I've ever seen. The largest one would have had a leg span of about 15cm (about 6 inches). It was the largest, creepiest bug that I have ever seen and I swear to you that it looked me in the eye and gave me the death stare. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. I could see its eyes and it was looking right at me. If a bug is so big that you can make eye contact, then I think I can safely say that it is not an irrational thing to be afraid of.

Because we've had a few of these spiders in the house, I am now constantly paranoid about more appearing. I've spent the last two weeks opening doors cautiously and checking the walls of every room I enter to make sure that there isn't any kind of giant bug lurking, ready to pounce. Everything takes longer because you’re scouring the room for bugs the size of your hand.

The first three times that one of these spiders appeared in our house, KJ was around and although he wasn't keen to get rid of them, he did the job anyway. I think it may have had something to do with me yelling at him to suck it up and do his duties as an Aussie male. I can’t be certain, because I left the room (hastily) and wouldn't return until all evidence had been removed.

The fourth time a huntsman appeared (tonight), I had a problem. KJ was away for two days and I was still so creeped out by the evil death stare that the last one gave me that I couldn't even go anywhere near the thing.

This presented a problem.

How was I going to get rid of it? I couldn't bring myself to get close enough to squish it or spray it in case it looked at me like the other one did, and KJ was two hours away. I couldn’t just leave it there, because if I looked away for too long, it wouldn’t be there anymore and the only thing worse than seeing a giant spider in your house is not seeing the giant spider that’s in your house.

I started cursing, wishing that I knew the neighbours a little better so that I could get one of them to help me. I rang friends who live nearby, but because it was Saturday night they were all out. I was expecting a friend over for drinks and I prayed that she would be the bug killing kind. No such luck. She was more scared of the thing than I was.

I exhausted every possible option before I had to resort to my innate childhood instincts – and called my dad to have him get rid of it. I felt like I was 5 and I had called him over because I needed him to hold my hand while I crossed the road. He came over and got rid of it while we watched from a safe distance. He scoffed at my mother, my friend and I for cowering in the kitchen, which leads me to believe that the fear of spiders must be an inborn female trait, something that men will never understand.

I will defend myself by saying that it was a very big, very hairy spider that may have been able to see that I had been given the evil spider death look by their ringleader, right before I had her killed. That if I had left it there, it would have come for me at night while I slept, and it might have brought its friends.

Sadly, despite my justifications, my true colours have shone through. I am a woman who had to call her dad to have him kill a spider.

Oh, the shame.