Sunday, June 9, 2013

I have decided that....

Mother Nature is trying to scare me to death!

And here is my evidence:

This started a few days ago when Tropical Storm Andrea was in town.  That -lovely- afternoon would have been fine, had it not been for the baseball sized eight-legged-freak trying to invade my sanctuary.  -Insert hysterical freak out and high-pitched little girl scream here.-  After finally managing to inhale and exhale properly, I went in search of a shoe, fly swatter, giant book...whatever would work. 

Success! I found the fly swatter.  The eight-legged-freak, meanwhile, took advantage of this momentary lapse of supervision to crawl further up my door and "hide" in a corner.


Five....times. Five times I whacked the shit out of that fucker; it would twist one way, turn another way, curl up, uncurl....the damn thing refused to die.  Then, as I was winding up for a guaranteed death blow, the bastard falls down the damn door and hides in an unreachable spot.  Again, I say....bastard.

Eight-legged-freak refuses to die.  *harrumph*

So, after some hysterical (and rather amusing) crying and gibbering on the phone to a few friends ("I'm too far away to kill it; go to bed." :-p) who know who they are *glare* I finally managed some sleep.

Later that night, while at work...

while checking on my residents, I noticed something crawling up a wall.  My other staff was on the opposite side of the room, my resident was sawing logs and my supervisor was about two feet away from "Mr. Crawly."  I, rather innocently, asked "What is that?" at which point my supervisor jumped up, scurried across the room, let out a rather girly scream and grabbed onto my arm as she hid BEHIND me in the doorway. Way to go on being a responsible supervisor and battling the creepy-crawlies that 'threaten' our residents.

Turns out that "Mr. Crawly" was just a tree frog that was stuck inside and climbing the wall.  About ten minutes later, as I came around the corner from the bathroom there sits yet another baseball sized spider (thank goodness I'd already went pee, or I'd have had to clean the floor too!).  I figured 'okay, I got this; I'm bigger than it is' until the damn thing started charging me.  Well, one quick, heavy step took care of that!

That was beginning of the tree frog night.  I herded three more outside into the dark, plus being surprised by yet another one after breakfast that morning (as in, 'hello, I will hop and land on your knee now, staring up at you.').  No biggie, frogs I can handle.

The next night, while at work...
I am talking with my supervisor (yes, the same one from the crawly frog up the wall) when I am, quite rudely, dive bombed by some type of hard-shelled, winged flying bug. Ewww! As I freak and try to determine if it's in my hair or gone -by rapidly turning around as my supervisor laughs and says 'oh, geesh!'- it somehow crawls into my scrub top. Yes, you read that correctly. It...crawled...inside! *shudder*

While finishing my talk with her ("I think it was a palmetto bug." *gulp, shudder, try to hurl*), I think I feel something on my shoulder.  Glancing over, there's nothing there. Whew!  Visit finished, I head for the restroom just to double check and make -sure- there's nothing in my top. Empty out the pockets, strip the top and......O.O!!!!

Away we go with the flying, hard-shelled, now buzzing icky bug type! *recoils* Oh, the horror! The damn thing dive bombs me three times while I attempt to defend myself (rather pathetically) and let out a girly squeal that I'm sure woke up at least three of my residents. Hey, I don't like being unjustly attacked!

Finally, I manage to hook my hands into the sleeves and hold the body of my top up as a sort of poor-man's shield. Needless to say, it didn't work.  The bastard flew over!  By now, having had enough I begin to slightly twirl the top around and, in the process, whack the bug!


Tossing said top aside, I quickly grab some paper towels to pick it up (I ain't touching that...eww!) and flush the fucker.  Woohoo! Quick victory dance, redressed and ready to get back to work.  Make a quick call to let my supervisor know of my "heroic" efforts to save all and sundry and thus ended the bugs for that night.

Now, here's to hoping that the next few days at work don't hold the same.  I'm sick of spiders, surprise frogs (though they're damn cute!) and random dive bombing bugs.  Seriously time for vacation.



  1. OMG I about pissed myself laughing, and even I knew who the call was that told you to go to bed because they were too far away to kill the baseball-sized-eight-legged-freak.

  2. *giggles* Well, hell woman! I would sure as fuck -hope- you knew who the call was that told me to go to bed! :P