I was lying in bed reading, when I saw a spider making its way across the ceiling directly above me. "Oh crap," I thought. Warm and comfortable, I didn't want to get up. Besides, getting close enough to kill spiders ooks me.

Could I just ignore it? I made it through about three words of a sentence before accepting that something had to be done. Had I a bed-parter, I would have delegated the task. But I was alone.

'Okay', I groaned, throwing back the covers, 'you can't stay.'

I found a magazine and folded it up. 'Sorry about this guy...' and I swatted him.

The worst possible outcome. He fell off the ceiling and landed on my bed. Still moving. He was alive and in my bed! Ack!

I threw the covers away from him, not sure what to do. I couldn't squish him IN my sheets, leaving spider gook on my bed. I couldn't let him stay there; that's not my preferred type of bed-parter.

I had a vague notion of getting him to walk onto the magazine, but did't want him near me. I ended up sweeping him off the bed onto the floor.

Where I promptly lost sight of him. Another poor outcome. I ran to turn on the overhead lights and look around, but he had vanished without a trace.

So now I'm huddled under my covers looking around. Somewhere is a spider lurking, a spider who touched my warm bed, a spider with a reason to hold a grudge.

I shall sleep well tonight.