December 4, 2002
Ho hum
I love to complain, I've just recently discovered. "No, go on," you're saying. But yes, it's true. Just take all of last week, for instance. All I could do was complain about The (Little) Man and how he was ungrateful and over-bearing, etc. And now, he has left me alone all week so far. I'm sitting around, just waiting for work to find its way to my desk, and ho hum, I have a chance to think about how over-bearing I can be at times. Alas, I am only human; poke me, I bleed.
So, what am I grateful for today? (And I don't know how much longer I can honestly go on being grateful about stuff...it's just so contrary to my cynical nature.) I am grateful that my car can sail down the highway at 90+ m.p.h. without blowing a gasket. I am grateful that the CHiPs were occupied with other matters this morning so they couldn't bust my ass for sailing down the highway at 90+ m.p.h. I am eternally grateful for 10,000 Maniacs (the Natalie Merchant era, of course) and for Natalie Merchant as a solo artist herself. I am grateful for the name Drema (pronounced Dream-a), which was the name of a lady from South Carolina with a charming and engaging southern accent who I used to work with who was over-occupied with the number 666 and how it came up "far too often" in the random scheme of things, that being the sign of the Devil and all. I think that's all for today. Don't want to get too zealous about this.
I think our spider neighbor has moved on to greener pastures. He/She/It hasn't been hanging around lately, and his/her/its web is starting to fray. I'm sure that spiders are more dignified and conscientious to let their webs fray in public while they are still occupying them, so he/she/it must have moved on. Good luck, you ugly thing.
It's good too because I was starting to freak whenever I saw it just sitting there, almost hovering in the air. I had a dream once about a spider chasing me through my apartment. I was watching the tube, and this giant spider crawled in the window and *plop!* landed right on the floor in front of me. It was enormous, with a body the size and color of a softball, at least. I jumped up and ran into my bedroom and slammed the door shut. I could hear the spider's legs click-clacking on the hardwood floor as it chased me into my room. It was as if the spider were wearing high heels to make such a noise. The noise stopped. Then I heard a faint, repeated tapping on the door as if the spider were being polite, asking me gently to "open up please so I can feed off your blood." I hate spiders.
And so, with the arrival of our guest, my over-active imagination started getting the better of me, and I began imagining that the spider would leap off its web on my back or in my hair or something just vile and horrific. It's truly a paralyzing phobia. I can't emphasize that enough. I wish I knew why!
