Don't worry I'll get that for you.......ARRRRRRRRRRRGH!

Have you ever had one of those moments, where you have just reacted on pure fear driven instinct? You know, those times where the 'edit' function on the video recorder of life fails because the button is all jammed up with childhood irrationality and the processor is completely preoccupied with extracting you from the life or death situation *ahem* you find yourself in? Well, this is exactly where I found myself this morning. And I sat pondering this whilst on the bed, with just a vest top on and a cold compress on my rapidly darkening bruised knee. I didn't have to ponder for long.

I'm a Eeeeeeeeeeeediot. And a fecking large one at that.

This morning was going quite well. Wellish. The water is currently being switched off on our street between the hours of 8am - 8pm. The GF is currently working nights. Therefore after receiving a text this morning at 7am to let me know she was on her way, I dutifully got up and drew a bath for her. (Yes I know. I am wonderful) After she had landed, (stuffed full of cold and sleep deprived) I shuffled her into the bathroom and then proceeded to make her a cup of tea. I know. It all sounds so perfectly idyllic, and sickmakingly couple like. Little did I know that this peaceful tranquillity would be torn asunder.....

Tea made and we then shuffle down the hall to the bedroom, where we sat and chatted whilst drinking tea and have a small morning catch up. Something we do most mornings she is on nights. She looked over at me and asked, 'Got any biscuits?' Now, let me explain. Its not like I can produce these magically from about my person. I usually keep biscuits in my top drawer, because I have a nasty habit of either waking up so ravenous anyone near me is in danger of loosing an arm. Or I cannot get to sleep because my tummy is growling and hurting as I have failed to eat enough that day. However today, I had none. They were already in my tummeh.

So. Being the loving wonderful GF that I am, I said that I would go and get them for her. And that ladies and gentlemen is when this peaceful harmony of the day was shattered.......

*(What my head wants to believe happened)

*As I looked up to get my dressing-gown off the back of the door, my eyes happened to cast themselves over the frame of the window above it. It was then my keen sense of sight, locked on to the Horror that was lurking there. With the agility of a ninja I dropped the dressing gown and threw myself bodily away from the door frame with the agility of a cat, twisting my body round in mid air so I landed on my feet away from the Horror above the door. Then dropping niftily into a crouch I sprung, gazelle like onto the bed. I then (following protocol) reported the incident to the high commander who swiftly acquired the equipment needed.

*coughs*

*(reality) - Remember, GF is still currently sat in bed.....

*As I looked up to get my dressing-gown off the back of the door, my eyes happened to cast themselves over the frame of the window above it. It was then that even my buggered sight could see the big spider residing there. With not even a mitochondria of dignity, I screamed like a five year old, dropped the dressing gown and threw my giraffe like body away from the spider with the agility level of a drunk zombie high on crack. Windmilling my arms through the air I somehow managed to twist myself round, so I had my back to the door. And when I tried to run my feet found no purchase, tripped over themselves and sent me crashing to the floor, thus, disappearing from the GF's line of sight at the foot of the bed. My arm would then have appeared to her dramatically clutching at the duvet, whilst the rest of my body followed in a frenzied dragging scrabbling manner with all the grace of a hyena. Once there I simply pointed at the door and said, 'SPIDER!' Then burst into tears as the throbbing in my knee clamoured for my attention and I realised I had actually hurt myself in the effort to 'get away' from the Spider.

Yes. I can safely say that my Arachnophobia is still alive and kicking.

She sat there. Totally dumbfounded and bemused at the scene unfolding in front of her.

Dutifully she got out of bed. Inspected the spider. Declared 'Oo that's a big one.' Thus affirming a small atom of my fear level. Stated she was going to get the hoover, and an Ice pack. Spider dispatched, and the owie in my knee calming itself. I started to laugh. And Laugh. And Laugh at just HOW ridiculous I must have looked. And the GF had front row seats to the whole show. One minute I was off to get food, the next I was a tangled dented heap on the floor. I thought she might actually pee herself from laughing. In fairness she had just witnessed a fear level equivalent of running from an enraged polar bear be caused by a two inch spider.

You see the thing is, during the warmer months you kinda get used to seeing them, lurking in ceiling corners and scurrying across the floor. But because its been so cold here, they haven't been around, and your eyes kinda get out of the habit of seeing them. So I'm a bit out of practice.

I think I have a solution to the problem though. When the warmer months start to appear and those hairy little fuckers decide that they want to move back in. We should have a logging system. All spiders should declare themselves whilst residing in the house and submit themselves for GPS tagging in order to avoid such terrible situations such as this. That way, I know where they are. They don't get sucked into the hoover because I wasn't expecting them to be there, and everyone gets to live in a copacetic little corner of the universe.

So. At the evening do this weekend which we are attending. I shall be wearing my little black dress and sporting a large purple bruise and lump on my knee with aplomb. And if anyone asked how I achieved it, I shall simply tell them I fell out of bed whilst having sex because it's far less embarrassing......