Karma - you got the wrong one!

It’s obviously getting close to Halloween. Spiders are everywhere! Unfortunately, not just the decorate-for-Halloween type either. As part of my daily OCD habits, I was “straightening” up the guest room a few mornings ago when I spotted my #2 biggest fear trying to set-up shop in our household. (My #1 fear is frogs, and will hopefully NEVER be mentioned again in this dream blog. Seriously. Don’t even get me started about those disgusting creatures. Ugh.)  Anyway, this sucker was HUGE.  Generally, if someone were describing me, I feel fairly confident that the word “independent” would be used….but in this case it would be used with a big fat asterisk next to it. I would rather sell our house at a loss, rent a storage unit for all of our stuff, rent an apartment while we are hunting for a new house, and buy a new one (sans the spiders) that will most likely be smaller than our current one because we somehow have to pay for all of the aforementioned items, than to remove the spider by myself. This distressing event has obviously had a huge impact on me because last night, while I was sound asleep, the ghost of spidy came back to haunt me.  He was affixed to my arm, latching on to me for dear life (or in this case death, since my husband had already killed him several mornings before).  It was one of those nightmares that’s SO traumatizing, it woke me and my husband up! (Mainly because I almost fell out of bed trying to get that thing off of me).  After I realized that I was dreaming, and that the “incident” which occurred several mornings ago was indeed in the past, hysterics ensued. The good kind.  The kind where you can’t stop laughing because you realize what you just did was so embarrassing and yet so ridiculous.  I mean, thank goodness the ghost of spidy landed on my arm.  What happened if it landed on my face? How could I possibly explain to my co-workers this morning that in the middle of the night, I was attacked by my dead-ghost-arch-enemy-back-to-life-to-terrorize-me spider and thus have suffered abrasions on my face? No explanation for that. Secondly, why was I attacked? I didn’t kill the thing. My husband was soundly sleeping, probably dreaming about unicorns and cotton candy, while I’m being tortured.  Karma definitely got this one wrong.