Some people in my life (my mother and spouse) seem to think that I am prone to exaggeration.  Ridiculous. I almost died yesterday.  Here’s what happened-

We moved to Asheville a few weeks ago.  NO ONE WARNED ME ABOUT THE SPIDERS.  Dear friends- what did I do to you? Why wouldn’t you tell me that I would constantly be on the lookout for creatures straight from the pits of Hell who are out to destroy me?

*pause story* if you are one of “those” people who says things like “spiders are great, they eat bugs, they are beautiful creatures”… go away, we have nothing to discuss. Spiders are THE WORST.  *unpause*

So every day I have vacuumed up multiple spiders- they just appear…EVERYWHERE.  Most of them hide in corners and move slowly, so I feel confident in my sneaky vacuuming skills, but then yesterday happened.  I stepped out onto my porch because it was a beautiful crisp fall day and then a baby tarantula ran at me.  I’m quite certain it was a small tarantula because it was black (it’s not about race, it’s simply the color of the death creature), it probably had 8 legs (it was moving too fast to really count, and who counts legs when they are about to die), and it was skittering at me much too quickly for my liking.  Luckily, I had my giant boots on and quickly stomped on it.  Then I ran inside to contemplate my near death experience.  As I was telling my husband how lucky I am to still be alive, I realized that the smushed spider body was no longer on my porch.  So now I’m quite sure it’s coming back to kill me.  Also- dear husband used to have pet tarantulas, so obviously his view on the situation is skewed.  I could’ve died.

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