Along came the spiders...

It started out like any other Friday.  I was working the late shift that day, but despite the later start time, I, as usual, left it to the very last second to leave the house. Upon reaching the driver door I noticed a cluster of evil perched between the driverside mirror and the door itself.  I was too panicked to take a photo with my phone so the googled image here will have to be enough of a descriptor for you:

Cluster of evil:

A baby spider, on its own isn't overly threatening. No.  But when you get seventy-billion in a cluster like that, the threat grows exponentially.  All I could think about was ridding the car of the threat.  I quickly rummaged around in my purse for something to help...nothing.  I carefully opened the door and grabbed a napkin.  Working quickly, I separated the nest from the car, threw the napkin down to the pavement with excessive force, and stomped furiously on it.  Some attempted to escape, as I could see little things moving all around the napkin and by my foot, and to my horror:  ON MY PERSON.  Yes, there was also a number of them walking up my pant leg!!  Using the opposite foot I tried to dispose of the threat.  I shimmied around and batted at my leg with my other foot. Upon nearly losing balance, I then opted to remove my sandal to actually beat them off me.  Redneck Highland jig, several shrieks, and sandal-beating later, I felt satisfied that I ridded my person of the threat and then got in the car (of course my brain still felt them crawling; all over me, I could feel them all.over.me.). 

Secure in the safety of the vehicle, I noticed that my initial napkin scoop hadn't really finished the job.  There were several all over the window.  Now what I'm about to tell you is VERY IMPORTANT.  Take heed.  Learn my lesson.  If you find yourself in the middle of a similar predicament, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT,  OPEN THE WINDOW!  The fact that I'd just had a family of baby arachnids on my person no doubtedly hampered with all reason and sensibility because I opened it.  I opened the god-damned window.  Suddenly, a whole new crop of baby spiders were now crawling INSIDE MY CAR, down the window and down the door, trying to get back to my person!  I shrieked, flew the door open and then grabbed my sandal to do my best at slamming and bamming them into smithereens.  When the sandal stopped working, I grabbed a handful of napkins to finish the job (the only good thing about them being baby spiders is they were too small to be juicy. And, God bless the drive-thru staff at Dairy Queen for their heavy napkin hand).

Fighting the urge to run back in the house to shower I had to go to work; time was ticking and I would be lucky at this point if I even made it there on time.  Parked, I then enlist the help of another night shift arriver to give me a once-over. She said she didn't see any.  I still felt them crawling. 

I made it to work on time, and I got through my shift despite ending it with a few less layers of skin from the scratching.  And only 1 more baby spider had to be sacrificed from the inside of my car that night.  I haven't yet quite figured out a new plan of attack if I'm faced with a future car nest. Other than never, ever opening the window again. Ever.

don't let this happen in your home

I should know better than to load up the shopping cart with fresh produce. It always spoils before I can finish it, and I don't even want to think about the amount of food and money I waste by having such big plans to eat healthfully only to see it turn into a science experiment before it hits the compost bin. Last night, after the girls night for Erin's BD I stopped in at Sobeys to grab a few necessities. Not unlike any other time, I had to grab a few expired items from the fridge before filling it back up with the new stuff.

I ought to clear it out more frequently.

The diced up tomato and pickle for the last time we ate schawarma were funky, but, since they were in some rather expensive pyrex glass containers, I had to clean them out. That was stink#1.

I noticed the subject of stink#2 on the bottom shelf, right above the crisper. It had been sitting there for awhile, and I knew full well that there was no hope that it was fresh so I knew it was next to be turfed. I grabbed it....only to see it disintegrate before my very eyes and heard the distinct *ker--ffflllifffff--PLOP* noise it made as it separated from itself and smeared all over the bottom of the fridge and onto the kitchen floor. It had the consistency of what I can only describe as a condom filled with hand cream. Not that I have ever felt a condom filled with hand cream. I just have a good imagination. It smelled of rot. It was the most disgusting 'surprise' I'd had since the 'chocolate milk incident'. I screamed. I cursed. I shuddered - to the point that Chris came to the room to see what the fuss was all about. He took one look at the mess upon the floor before doing his own squirming and possibly gagging before leaving the room again.

The smushy, mushy surprise was a cucumber.

After getting over the initial shock of the dead cucumber and cleaning up said mushy mess, I then moved on to the culprit of stink#3, a soured container of buttermilk.

Perhaps we oughta just give up on the whole grocery shopping/cooking/storing thing, and just sign up for Meals on Wheels? Surely we'd save money? What with accounting for the money not spent on food that would spoil, and the lower electric bill with not having to run the fridge?

I am good housekeeper. I swear.