You might think all the action of my day was at the tail end of my Verizon store visit. The moment an extra $140 fee left the salesperson’s mouth, I mentally tiptoed backward from the twenty-foot high dive.
But no, it wasn’t there.
It was hours later in the bathroom.
With my mini wheel tool pressing and massaging over my bright red and painful sty, I contemplated a live creature’s fate. Moments earlier, with an emptied bath bomb container, I’d trapped a wolf spider—a strapping specimen as large as my adult big toe.
Avoiding whatever needed to be done next with him, I left him to think over his life choices while I focused on expressing the oils from my blocked gland.
I wasn’t surprised to see the spider. Just two weeks before, I’d spotted him in the corner of Evelyn’s room. But her smile and declaration of “cute” earned the arachnid a free pass to a longer stay.
The bathroom intrusion, however, coming on the heels of a vulnerable and taxing day, meant no more Mrs. Nice Lady.
He was on my turf.
A fleeting thought to have Dave take care of it was enough, but knowing it would be hours until he got home—and knowing my psyche would be creepy-crawling with the awareness of him nearby—I pulled the only piece of paper available: a foldable breast exam instruction pamphlet from the bathroom cabinet.
Very slowly, ensuring no little legs could sneak out, I slid it beneath the container.
For extra measure, I used my Mariners T-shirt to encapsulate the entire operation. Then, with both of us wearing our birthday suits, I carried the bundle to the front porch.
There, I tossed the whole goodie bag toward the middle of the porch, slightly worried nothing would emerge.
But it did.
Straight for the steps it raced.
As relief and pride filled me at a job well done, my awareness of my own nude, dripping body suddenly took center stage, and I turned and hurried back indoors.
Everything is where it was; The shirt and container are still on the porch.
Now, I’m clotheless in the office chair.
Because when the inspiration to write hits, you must heed its call.
No. Matter. What.
Love,
Jaclynn