I was straightening up the bed spread. The tag that goes at the bottom was on my side of the bed by the nightstand and the pillows had exploded off of the bed and onto the floor with my clothes from the day before. As I rounded the bed to fold the bedspread over attractively, I popped a pillow up onto the bed and screamed.

On the floor, curled up, was a fuzzy spider the size of a silver dollar.

I immediately called for help even though I was sure this spider was dead. But maybe he was a zombie spider, or a playing possum spider… Maybe he was waiting for me to get close enough to jump on my face and scar my psyche for life. Couldn’t take the chance. I made the boyfriend–who is also cleverly afraid of spiders–get it by shouting, “CUP!!! GET A CUP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” It was very girly which I am not normally.

He arrived with two purple solo cups and scooped up the spider. He said it was dead. I’m not so sure… Even now it could be in the trash can… Working its way to the surface past the paper plates covered in pizza cheese and the bits of jalapeno & meat scraps…

I might have to move.