I am very upset.

Another spider has attacked our home and compromised my sanity. This time Tyler wasn’t home and I wasn’t so lucky to kill it with one shot. Spider Killer, though it says it “Kills on Contact!” does not indeed kill on contact. I am suspecting this was a wolf spider, a brown recluse, or a hobo spider, but we’re not sure which one. But it was big, my friends. Much bigger than the last spider we killed.

Tyler thinks I am crazy, because all squashed up in the plastic bag, the murder victim doesn’t look that big. (He wasn’t dying after several direct-contact sprays with the supposed “spider killer” so after screaming and panting and nearly passing out I squished him with a shoe.) But his legs were very long and protruding from his body. He was very fast—I had a hard time catching him, in fact. He was at least the size of a quarter; probably bigger.

Sure, the aforementioned spiders are relatively harmless. But I don’t want them crawling on or anywhere near me, especially at night when I am asleep. I don’t want to wake up with one on my arm. I don’t want to find one in my sheets or in my clothes. I don’t want to find one in our pantry. I don’t want to be trapped with one in the kitchen (I’m glad this hasn’t happened…yet, anyway…I don’t know what I’d do if I was stuck in there!) I hate bugs. I hate spiders. I shouldn’t have to live with this, should I?

I was crying when Tyler got home, so I made him call our landlord. They should be over here tomorrow to check it out…