Flashback Friday - Creepy Crawly
Every Friday, I'm going to post one of my blog posts from days of yore (provided I remember; I'm getting old). What's posted below is in its original, mostly likely poorly-edited form.
Creepy Crawly (originally posted on Blogger, February 1, 2012)
I have had, for as long as I can remember, bad eyes. When I was born into a family of people that wear glasses, contacts and monocles, I was destined to walk along the same path. Like the majority of people in my family, particularly on my father's side, without some sort of visual crutch, I am blind. And, as I have gotten older, I have taken to wearing my glasses more than my contacts because, well, contacts often feel like sandpaper in my eyes and who the hell wants sandpaper in their eyes?
Because I wear my glasses the majority of the time, there are certain times of the day when I subject myself to blindness. When I first wake up. After a nap. In the shower. These are times of the day when my eyes are nothing more than brown globes in my head and offer little to no assistance. And, as a consequence, when I am sans spectacles, there are times when the lack of detail in my vision becomes a burden.
This morning I was in the shower. While washing my hair (or what's left anyway), something on the ceiling caught my blurry vision. It was black, and since I don't often look at the ceiling, I had no idea if it was just a spot on the ceiling, or something else. So, I watched it for a bit (I used the word "watched" very, very loosely). After a couple of seconds, I noticed that the aforementioned black spot was moving. The best I could tell it was moving slowly, but moving nonetheless.
My first, and probably accurate assumption, is that the thing on the ceiling is a spider. I mean, it's January in Kansas, what the hell else could it be? Now, let me mention that I have no real problem with spiders. Live and let live, that's my philosophy. What I do have a problem with, however, is a spider rappelling down on me from the ceiling when I am not looking. As such, I decided I needed to figure out what to do with the creature making its way to a spot right above my head, thus positioning itself for a free-fall onto my dome. I had no idea if it would decide to drop down on me while I'm showering, but because I look so good in the shower, I figured the chances were probably pretty high.
My brain started clicking on all cylinders thinking of a way to get the creature down. Reaching it with my bare hands isn't an option because, well, I have shampoo in my hair, I'm wet and I'm not eight feet tall. Waiting wasn't really an option because I wanted to enjoy my shower without fear of being accosted by a creepy crawly. Once I eliminated those two options, I decided there was only one thing left to do: spray it.
I am fortunate enough to have one of those detachable shower heads and it has this unused setting that shoots out this jet of water like fire hose. Using the power of my awesome brain, I deduced that I could give it a quick spray, it would fall to the ground and I would take care of it when I am done. That is, of course, if I could hit it with the spray given the fact that A. I'm blind and B. it's moving.
I rinsed my hair quickly because nobody like shampoo in the eyes. After my rinse, I detached the shower head and prepped it for my assault. Once ready, I knew I would have to move quick; not only to hit it, but to limit the amount of water on the ceiling. I grabbed the handle and quickly lifted it and aimed the spray at the creature on the ceiling. WHOOSH!!! I was immediately elated to see that I hit it on the first shot.
But then it went on the move again. Through the air.
All of this is happening quickly and my first assumption is that it used it's spidey powers and shot a web against the wall and attempted to not to hit the ground with a big thud. So, without thinking, I continued to aim for the creature as it moved from the ceiling, to the wall, to the air. Water, at this point, is everywhere. The walls. The mirror. The lights. And God knows where else that I couldn't make out because, at this point, I am still kicking it Stevie Wonder style with my sight.
After the creature's acrobatic moves, it disappeared. I spend a good three minutes trying to mark it with my poor vision to no avail. I can't see it on the floor. It's not on the vanity. And, it's not on the wall. Perhaps it is in my pajamas crumpled up on the floor. Perhaps it went down the sink drain. Perhaps it found a hole in the space-time continuum and went off to another dimension. I have no idea. But, it is no longer of an immediate danger to me, so I continue on with my shower.
I finish up, dry off and immediately put on my glasses and do a more thorough, non-blind scan of the room. There is no sign of the creature anywhere. And of course, as I surmised, there really is water everywhere. But, it's only a spray, so I don't figure it's much of a problem. I don't want to get out the ladder to clean up the walls, and I certainly don't want to clean my bathroom right now, so I figure I'll just leave it. I mean, it's only water and it will dry, right? However, because it is water, and it will dry, and because it is all over the mirror, I figured I should at least wipe it down so as to avoid a mirror that looks like it has chicken pox.
I grab my towel (after throwing my pajamas out of the bathroom just in case the whatever-the-hell-it-was landed on them) and begin to clean off the mirror. About halfway through the wipe down (it's a big mirror), I found what was on the ceiling now hanging out on the mirror. It was...
I guess I overreacted a little bit. I really need to get laser surgery on my eyes.