The spiders have broken me

Back in my "Bubble and Squeak" post, I sort of gave you a scrambled up version of what had been happening in my life recently. Shortly after that, I remembered that I'd had a huge thing happen, that had absolutely, positively, FREAKED ME OUT. But, I decided that rather than update my post, or mention anything about my freak out, I would pretend nothing had ever happened, therefore ignoring the incident in order to hopefully not attract anything like that again. A la The Secret.


Well, something happened over a week ago, and in a similar although totally more freakish incident earlier this week, and I just can't contain the truth any longer. I must verbalise my fear.

The spiders. Huntsmen. They're baaaaaacccckkkkk.

I need to update you on what happened last time to freak me out so much. I should try and give an edited version of the incident in question, but I don't know if I can. I'll try.



About a month ago now, I was driving into work on a mild-to-developing-hot morning. As I got closer to the city, I remember thinking to myself, "should I open the windows?" I decided against it, and also half forgot. I guess at the time the heavy wind outside put me off.

When I was about 5 minutes away from work, stationary in traffic before some red lights, all of a sudden, something appeared to drop on my car bonnet in front of me.
I stopped and stared. I stared and stared at the object, frozen. Uncertain. Was that a spider?

Surely enough the huntsman scurried along the bonnet to one side. Just thinking of it now makes me shudder.


I was quietly freaking out. Here I was, driving to work, and a huntsman had just apparently dropped from the sky onto my car. Thinking back, I believe I was under a tree when it appeared, so it may have fallen from there.


It started crawling, towards the windscreen, to one side and to the next. I didn't know what to do. I was trying to drive, and getting totally sidetracked by this disgusting THING. I suddenly recalled my decision against opening my window, and thanked God I hadn't, or else it may have come inside my car. With my bad luck that could have happened, and I totally would have had a car accident. I would have gone mental.


I considered putting on my windscreen wipers when it crawled towards the window, however I was worried I would splatter it and have to look at a dead mangled spider for the next 5 minutes, which equally would have grossed me out. However in hindsight, I should have opted for that path. My other concern was that I would fling it, and then not know if it was still on the car. As warped as the logic sounds, at least if it's on the car, I'm certain of it, whereas not knowing it is there, and it IS, I would too easily be careless and then get a heart attack when it decided to reappear again.


So, I drove to the regular car park I go too, and the spider had decided to disappear along the bottom of the wipers. It was as if it was mocking me against my decision to initally use them.


As I approached the small booth that park-ees pay at before proceeding to park, I already had a little plan. D-man, the parking attendant who I see practically every day, was there. I left my window up, and proceeded to attempt sign language for the first time in my life.


"Is there a spider up there?" I yelled through the closed window, simultaneously pointing upwards and imitating a spiders crawl.


He looked confused. Perhaps because I was communicating through a closed window.


"Spider!!! Up there?!" I called louder.


D-man still looked puzzled.


I opened the window an inch. "Is there a spider up there? It was crawling and now it's gone and I'm really scared...."


"No, no, no spider."


"Sure?"


"Yes I'm sure I can't see anything."


I reluctantly, yet quickly opened the window and paid him, not only because I was scared the spider would re-appear but I had a line of cars building up behind me also wanting to get in.


"You scared of spiders?" D-man asked. He had a cheeky grin.


"Yeah, I just don't like them."


"It's ok I understand, my girlfriend is the same. No spiders there, don't worry."


I quickly closed my window, and went to park my car. As soon as I was all parked, and ready to go with my bags, I took a deep breath.


I had to get out of the car, but at the same time, I didn't know where on the car this spider was. My intense fear was that it would somehow fall on me as I climbed out, and the thought of that sent me into a huge desperation and panic.


I decided to sort of push my drivers door open, and then scoot over as close as possible to the passengers side, while still craning my neck towards the open door to try see if there was anything near my drivers side. I was practically sitting on the parking brake. I was there, peering over towards the car door opening, when I saw it.

Shudder.

This is very hard for me, just picturing it is totally freaking me out. I remember my fear and emotional pain and I'm doing it for the blog, so I hope one day someone appreciates it.

Ok, continuing.

The spider was crawling along the drivers side door, up the window. I freaked out, and practically jumped out the passengers side, all my bags in tow. To be honest, I actually have no recollection of jumping out of the car, or how I got over the parking brake and middle-car-bit (excuse my car lingo), that's how freaked out I was. I quickly ran to the drivers side, because I absolutely HAD to know where the spider was. If I lost sight of it, I would never know where it was, and that lack of knowledge would make me lose my mind.


It was now crawling right above the drivers door opening, rather than on the open door. It was in such an awkward position, that I didn't know if closing my door would kill it, force it out, or God forbid, enclose it in the car.


I think I stared at the spider for about 5 minutes, trying to work out what to do. I went to the passenger side and tried to look at where it was through the window. I looked around. I called a fellow work colleague, who we'll call Densley, who I was hoping was on his way to park at the very same car park as I was at. He didn't answer. I would've gotten D-man involved, only he was at his busiest time, with all cars coming in during the morning peak hour.


Before I could think much more, or decide on a plan of action, the spider dropped. It just disappeared. I didn't see where it went, it didn't look like it was on the ground or under the car. It simply dropped, and with it went my stomach.


There was nothing else to do, so I gingerly stepped towards the open drivers door and gently pushed it closed. My light push meant the car door didn't close fully, but that didn't worry me at that point.


At this point it was 9am. I had gotten there before quarter to nine.


As I trudged up towards the attendants booth, D-man saw me. "Where is the spider?" he asked smiling.


"I think it's in my car! I'm so scared, I don't know what to do."


"If you like, give me your keys, and when I have a bit more time, I will check it for you," he offered.


"Thank you." I was hoping he was gonna say that. I just didn't know what to do at that point.



As I trudged towards work, a deepening sense of dread seemed to sink further into me. I realised, that if D-man didn't find the spider, there was absolutely, positively, NO WAY I was driving home that day. The chance of a spider being in the car was too much to bare. I couldn't do it. It had to be killed, and I was beginning to realise that I had to see it get killed. There was no other way to guarantee my sanity and sense of certainty.

As I got to work, I was feeling so helpless, and I don't deal with not being in control of a situation too well. That day was another musical chairs day, I could see as I walked in, as my usual spot was being occupied by someone else, and rather I was going to have the spot next to Kitty. Usually I'd get a bit cranky and possessive about not being in my own spot (because I'm fully anal and have OCD) but today I just didn't care.

As I put my bags down, Kitty started to talk to me about some work of mine she had followed up on. She was chatting and going on and on, and I was just staring at her blankly, adding a monotonous "yeah" every so often.

Then I just said it. There was a slight lull in the conversation, and I went "Kitty, I don't know what to do, there's a big spider and I think it's in my car, and I don't know what to do."

A huge deepening sense of sadness washed over me and my throat tightened. I can't remember her reply. I'm sure it was something comforting.

Again I spoke, this time, my words were FLOODED with emotion. "Kitty, I actually CAN'T drive home if I don't see it dead. I just can't. I'm seriously freaking out." The tightness in my throat gave way to a huge ball that I just couldn't swallow, and tears welled in my eyes. My chin was going to start to quiver, I could feel it.
"I'm sorry, I have to gather myself," I said as I practically ran off. As I ran, hand over half my face, I happened past Densley, who in that moment, had seen that he'd missed my call, and also that I was apparently running off crying.

I was in the kitchen, trying to pull myself together, when I realised the most private place was the bathroom. So again off I ran. When I walked in, another woman was already in there, a newbie who had just recently joined our wider department. I mumbled a hello and stumbled into the cubicle.

Guess what? My parusesis was all GONE as I deliberately made myself go, knowing that just sitting in the cubicle would spark some curiosity in the newbie woman. She didn't have to know why I was traumatised, and I already felt totally stupid for crying over a freaking spider. However it seemed Kitty had other plans.

I heard the door open. "Miss S?" Kitty called.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry about the spider ok? Densley has a vaccuum and he's going to vaccuum it out for you."

"I feel like such a dickhead Kitty."

"Don't worry Miss S he'll get it out."

As I walked out of the cubicle Kitty was already gone. Leaving the newbie, who had heard our discussion, unless she was selectively deaf.

"You're gonna think of me as the bug woman," I started with her. This statement came because of ANOTHER incident (I just attract incidents don't I?) that had occurred a couple weeks before that, where as a group of us went on a break, before opening the door that exits our department, which is also next to the door which leads to the bathroom, as we walked, a moth flew up from the corner, making me scream, the 2 girls with me scream and also funnily enough Densley scream. It was the screaming moth-effect, so to speak, And as this happened newbie woman had walked out of the bathroom ,witnessing our scream fest due to random moth.

So, now in the bathroom, I told her about the spider in my car. And you know what, she was so nice. She's become one of my fave people at work now. She was really comforting, adding that she had once left her car in mid-traffic because of a spider in her car. I felt so much better hearing that. Apparently I wasn't the only freak-spider-incident-attracting person.

I walked out, all regrouped and breathing normal again, and there was Densley, with a mini vaccuum in hand. I felt really touched, yet really stupid for reacting the way I had, especially at work. He on the otherhand, had thought I'd been in a car accident or something, what with the missed call and running off crying, and he'd felt really bad. He'd gotten the vaccuum from someone's work drawer, and now we were ready to do some damage.

Off we went, me in the background looping with "I feel like such a dickhead, really I do. Thank you so much for this...."

D-man thought we were hilarious as he handed me my keys back at the car park. He'd been busy and hadn't had a chance to check on the demon spider. And so we walked to my car. There still reminding me of my horrendous episode was the drivers door, still partly not-quite-closed.

Densley started opening up doors, as I explained where I'd last seen the spider, and watched from a good safe few metres away what was unfolding. He opened the drivers door, then the passengers door, looking inside and around the door every time. I was near the passengers side, when he opened the rear drivers side door.

"It's here, I've got it," was what he said. I couldn't see (I was practically cowering) but he tried to suck it up with the vaccuum.

And then it started to scurry. (Ugh, shudder). It started to run over the car roof and we whipped into action, slamming doors closed so that it couldn't get into the car. As it wondered where to go, Densley at this point said "it's only a baby."

Sorry, a baby? Only a baby? Well if that's a baby I'd like to see what you call a fully grown huntsman. Yuck.

Densley tried to suck it up with the vaccuum, several times, but somehow, and this is the point that confused me, it 'fell' off the car. I say this because at the time Densley said it fell down, and although I felt utterly disappointed because it offered no conclusion for me, he assured me it wasn't in the car. I consoled myself, thinking, 'even if it's on the bottom of the car, it can't get inside.' He seemed to me to be speaking very vaguely, and so I felt somewhat consoled yet still confused.

I felt exhausted getting back to work. I'd just gone through an emotional train wreck, and I wasn't even sure if I was out of the tunnel yet. Upstairs at work having a tea break with my buddies, I stared at my mug of tea, constantly envisaging the demon spider to suddenly appear, crawling out of my tea like something out of a horror movie.

At the end of my shift that day Densley offered to walk me to my car, and check out the interior so that I could drive home feeling more secure. He was hanging back at work for a work function, and I had to run off, meet Hubbie and leave for Mr Wine's uni graduation party that he was having at his place that night.

Densley was awesome. He lifted everything that could be lifted, checked out every nook and cranny in my car, very thoroughly, constantly reassuring me that it couldn't get in the car, IF it was on the car. It was sometime at this point that he said the spider has actually fallen on the ground, in which case he strongly believed it would have crawled off into the adjoining bushes, rather than hang around. I really hoped he was right, also really glad to know he'd seen it fall on the ground. I was so annoying, I asked him to confirm that fact for me, oh, about 6, 7 times.

Nontheless, I drove home, with the windows UP, in the warm car, constantly looking around me.

Hubbie was conveniently outside when I got home, so I sign languaged to him to check for spiders on the roof of the car. Once again my sign language proved futile, and he looked confused despite me yelling through the window, so I tentatively opened the door and quicky explained before I got out.

That night at the party, I told Red everything. I had a good laugh with her about it, we acted slightly like hysterical women do when it comes to spiders, and she told me that yes, that was quite a story. Vaccuum and all.

And so, as the great night ended, and it came close to midnight, Hubbie and I wondered off home. We both had work the next day, and had to get a move on. Being dark outside, my somewhat relaxed disposition in joking about my ordeal to Red had now transgressed to a paranoid cautiousness. In the car we got, and I began to drive, again constantly looking around me through the windows.

We had been driving all but 5 minutes. Not even. I took a path home via some back streets, however they were sort of commonly used back streets. This time of night wasn't too busy though.

I looked at my drivers mirror, and in it I could see the rear window, enveloped by the black night surrounding it. No cars were behind me, so only occasionally was the window lit up by passing streetlamps.
Then I saw something. Weird.
"Is that birdshit?" I asked Hubbie, confused, still driving yet staring at the reflection in my mirror. It looked like odd, random lines across the window, and when I thought about it I could've sworn no birdshit had been there during the day...

Hubbie turned around towards the rear window to look. He didn't say a thing. And in that moment, I knew.

I just pulled over. I barely could, being in the narrow back streets and all, but without looking I stopped the car, then put my indicator on. I was lucky there'd been no one behind me. I looked behind me at the window, and the freaking spider, IT was very quickly scurrying across the window.
"Quick!" I screamed. "Get it, get it!"

Hubbie and I have an unspoken agreement. I give him much love and happiness. He kills any bug I request. It's an agreement that works very well for us. It's never a question of WHO will get rid of any weird thing that comes MY way. He knows his job, his duty to protect me. And he does it well.

"Close the door!" I screeched. Hubbie slammed the door behind him, and I turned around to see the spider scurrying around to the rear passengers window, right where Hubbie was in front of. It was fast.

"Where is it?" he called out from the darkness.

"There!" I screamed wildly, pointing to the rear window in front of him.

He paused. Saw the spider. And went "Faaaaarrrrrrrr."

In a matter of 5 seconds, he took off his shoe, and BANG! Off the window the spider went. To spider heaven.

Meanwhile, about 3 cars had piled up behind me, unable to overtake because of the oncoming traffic. I wondered if the sight of Hubbie with one shoe, other shoe in hand bashing a spider, at 11.30pm in a little back street, would seem weird. I knew if any men in those cars had partners, that it would most likely be a natural occurence for them.

Hubbie came back to the car, and once again, as I'd done with Densley, I bombarded him with the same 2 types of questions about 8 times:

"Is it dead?"

"Yes."

"Was it on the car or on the ground?"

"It was on the ground."

"Are you sure it's not still on your shoe?"

"No I checked it's outside."

"So it's definitely dead?"

"Yes."

"And you're sure it was on the ground, like dead? It couldn't have gotten away."

"No, I got it Miss S."

"And I just have to make sure, it's not still on your shoe? I can't have it in my car Hubbie...."

And so this conversation was repeated, perhaps another 3 times on the short 10 minute drive home.

Boy, had I had a day. What a spider saga. Now it was uncertain to me whether or not the spider that had 'reappeared ' that night on the drive home was the same spider hat had been on my car that morning. I say that because Mr Wine lives in the same area Hubbie used to live, and that area is abundant to THOSE kinds of spiders, as I've had one come to live on my car for a couple of weeks because of parking under a tree there before we were married.

That, combined with hearing a few days later that my bestie Red had gotten a similar surprise of her own, FINDING a yuck spider IN HER CAR, after parking at her man's house, makes me think that it may indeed have been a new spider on my car that night, if even Red got one later on. But, it's too much of a coincidence for me to think that I had a spider on my car that morning, and then another one that night.

I'm calling the morning spider the terminator spider in my spider saga. It came back with a vengeance. It stayed on my car and reappeared to horrify me (yes I know that's not a real word, is it?). And in true terminator style, after its demise, all that remained of its existence was a lone spider leg hanging off my window, like the broken limb rattling on the back of the car in T2. Shudder.

Story 2: (yes my nightmare continues)

About 2 weeks ago I've come home from work to some good news from Hubbie: he has sprayed the entire exterior of the house with insect spray. I was rapt, because with the ascending Spring/Summer weather, I knew there'd be trouble, and I wanted to get the house 'protected' before any incidents occurred.

All was good, all was fine. 'Til that night.

In bed, Hubbie had his eyes closed next to me. I was reading one of my books, and as I went to turn the page, something caught my eye, above me. I looked up.

A freaking, massive, disgusting huntsman (shudder) was in the top corner of our room, above the doorway, near the air con vent. (And as I write, from bed, I can't help but look up and check that the coast is clear).

I don't know if I cried out, or poked Hubbie, but he opened his eyes, and I just pointed to the ceiling.

Once again - "Faaaaarrrrrrr."

At first he didn't know what he was going to try kill it with, 'til I handed him my slipper. I jumped out of bed and stood near the window, as far away from the impending murder scene as possible. As he got closer, the spider scurried closer to the vent. This was very worrysome. We assume that's where it came from, and we didn't want it going back to its hiding spot. Hubbie was now on a mission, he had to get it, before it got away.

From what he said (because I just couldn't look), IT was quick. It took a few thumps, Hubbie jumping towards the ceiling and all, but he got it, leaving a beautiful mess behind. Far out. On the same freaking day Hubbie had acted to repell the house of insects, the biggest and baddest of them all appears, IN OUR BEDROOM of all places. And that's not it. Guess what my big mouth said right after, if only to make things worse:

"Far out. Imagine I wasn't reading, and we had the lights off. We wouldn't have known it was here."

As I said the words, I stopped, frozen. Yes, imagine that horrific scenario. Unknown to us, that thing crawling around the walls of our bedroom around us. And to think, what other times, when the lights were off, was something crawling around in our beddroom....???

I'd actually shot myself in the foot with that comment, that observation. In that moment I was more than terrified, I was petrified, MORTIFIED. It took some coaxing from Hubbie to make me turn my lamp light off, and even then, I edged myself as close as possible to him as we lay there, despite the too-warm night. My eyes frantically searched the walls around me in the darkness, as my eyes grew more and more adjusted to the night. That night, I had constant dreams of crawling huntsmen, and I had such an interrupted nights sleep, waking at least 5 times, each time searching the walls around me with paranoid eyes.

I felt I had lost control.

Why was this happening to me? No, not the spiders as much. I was well aware that by thinking of spiders, even though in fear, I was still attracting their presence to me. Which is hard to avoid when you do think of them in fear. But more, I didn't understand when I had grown sooooooo fearful.

I thought of my entire life history and association with spiders. In my 3rd birthday video, little Miss S says to the camera "spider, yuck," after cutesy-coaxing from my parents in my thoughts of them. This may have come about because of my sisters intense phobia of spiders, hence the discussion of them.

Living with my parents, yes they got spiders, but nowhere near as many, or as disgusting as the ones we got here. Over there there was always daddy-long-legs, and little itty-bitty, bullshit jumping spiders. Sure, occasionally there would be a big one. But that's it, occasionally, not EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I thought of last summer. WOW. There had been soooooo many big huntsmen. Hubbie thought I was calling them out to play when he went to bed, with all my stories of chasing them around with the mortein. And yet, despite their appearances, I chased them. I certainly didn't cower into a little corner and cry.

I remembered my last incident of the summer. The biggest grand-daddy of all mega-huge-huntsmen had appeared one Friday night, and it was a horrible experience. I think it was quite possibly the size of my whole hand. I sprayed it, it went behind the fridge, and I actually had to watch it and wait for it to be in spraying range again before I could try kill it. I was waiting with a torch and all. Then it disappeared under the dishwasher. When I noticed a gap above the dishwasher, that could allow the spider to crawl up and into the adjoining section of cupboards, onto my servingware, pots and pans, I lost my shit. There was no way it's mortein-covered body was gonna spoil my dishes. I ran upstairs, trying to wake Hubbie through my intense sobbing, begging him to come downstairs and kill it for me.

When he moved the dishwasher, and saw IT, apparently all-white covered in Mortein gunk, he says it was practically dead already, it was so loaded with my attack spray. And what did he say when he saw it?
"Faaaaarrrrrr."

He freely admits, it's the biggest spider he's seen in our house, I think even to date. And it remains in our spider history of stories, the Grand-Daddy of spiders.

So I think, after last summers intense onslaught of spider after spider coming into our home, concluding with the biggest mother you've ever seen, I actually became broken from all my experiences, and rather than lifting my metaphorical sword in the air and proclaiming "I will destroy you," I've collapsed into a shell of fear, worry and paranoia. I'm not kidding when I say I do automatic scans of the rooms I enter in the house, ESPECIALLY at night. It's driving me crazy.

I must say, despite the whole agony of this post, being all "woe is me, spiders are out to get me," there is a slight positive note I can end with. Since the recent incident of the thing in our bedroom, we haven't had another appearance, of any kind (I'm not including last nights daddy-long-legs, that spider is so not intimidating). Which I'm slightly terrified to admit, knowing after I post this that I'm walking downstairs to put my computer back in the study, and passing room, after room, after room....

Perhaps that one recent incident was that spider just getting out, that is, the house being purged of all insects after Hubbies spray-a-thon. That sort of makes sense. And makes me happy. And able to breathe. And walk in and out of rooms here, a bit easier.

But what happened to me earlier in the week wasn't so breathe-easy on me. Having a tea break at work, early in the morning, listening to a colleague talk about crab fishing or something like that, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, towards my lap.

I looked down, and to my intense shock and horror, a MOTH was sitting in my lap. Ugh, Shudder.

I screamed jumping up, in turn not only giving myself a proper wake-up call, but also enlightening my colleagues around me. My scream really started their day.

Geez. When will these bugs ever learn? I don't like them. STAY AWAY.

Going with the flow

It may just be me over-reacting, and looking into things too much again (in true Miss S style), however I think my parusesis phobia has just re-categorised itself, and in doing so, bit me in the bottom.

I feel soooo embarrassment right now. Yes embarrassment. In the words of all those women out there with light-shaded tresses.

So just a moment ago at work (where else, I may as well move in here) I had to move my car into the building due to the fact of working later tonight, and DON'T get me started on the moral and safety issues associated with parking away from the building, that's for another blog post.


But I really had to go to the toilet to pee, and so in I went. The female toilets on our level are a 2-cubicle toilet, and so when I went in, I saw a fellow worker fixing herself up, putting on make up and just generally fluffing up her appearance. And I also saw that one of the cubicles were engaged.


Now let me digress for a moment here. In a post I wrote quite a few months ago, that included nothing else but my current ramblings about my life, I mentioned the fact that I had parusesis, the phobia of urinating in a public place. I certainly don't consider it a condition, much the way that I don't think many arachnophobes note down their fear of spiders in the medical section when applying for health insurance. But nonetheless, it is a phobia, and yes it's irrational. In this prior post I mentioned how I only seemed to be affected when there was one other person in the toilet. I guess the thought of many people pee-ing with me in unison doesn't worry me, however being on stage and performing for only one other person in the bathroom, does.


I don't know what it is. Not just for me, but the other people out there who also have this stupid, totally irrational phobia (like every other irrational phobia?) I mean, we all have to pee. As we all have to shit. No, I'm not mincing my words here, we all pretend we don't, but clearly we do. If as a race we didn't pee and shit, we'd all be screwed, like in the most medical of fashions. But, just something about the private practive of excreting our waste, makes some of us get more unreasonably uncomfortable than others.


So back to today. I was like 'ok Miss S, cool, you can do this, there are 2 people in here.'


I went into the cubicle, and I could hear the girl in the adjoining cubicle, now freely pee-ing. She clearly has no parusesis whatsoever. I was hoping that would help me, as her loud urinating would shadow my own, blocking out the sound of my pee-ing all together. But as I stood there, pants down, I just couldn't do it. It was as if my bladder actually froze up, and went 'nuh-uh, no way.'


Frustrated, I pulled up my pants, and ripped off some toilet paper to throw in the bowl, trying to make it seem like I had done something. Unrelieved, I stepped out, made some light convo with the girl getting ready, and with the freely pee-ing girl who had just stepped out, and left the bathroom.


I didn't wanna leave it like this. I had to move my car, so I knew I'd be gone about 10-15 minutes at the most. I was hoping that by the time I got back, getting-ready girl would have left the bathroom, and I could go back into the toilet, pee freely without the burden of other people present, and be off on my way. Pee Free.

I considered myself EXTREMELY lucky in that as I walked back into the building after moving my car, I passed getting-ready girl going into the car park. This was lucky because I wasn't sure how I was going to scope out the bathroom without going in there. Certainly I couldn't go in there, see her still there and just turn around. No then I would just look weird (and talking about pee-ing in a blog post clearly isn't?!)


So, knowing getting-ready girl was out of my way, and pee-freely girl was all out of pee so she too shouldn't come into the bathroom again for a while, I confidently walked in.


The coast was clear. No one.


So, I did my business, thinking all the while how perfect it was that I saw getting-ready girl on my way in, and that she would definitely in no way, come back to the bathroom again.


Definitely, NO WAY, she would come into the bathroom again, after I'd seen her walking out. Right?


As I was washing my hands, the door opened, and guess who came in.


Yes. That's right. Getting-ready girl.


She sort of didn't say anything, just gave a sheepish smile, and she herself went into one of the toilet cubicles.


I could have died. I was sooooo embarrassment. In a timeframe of 15 to 20 mins, she had seen me in the toilet cubicles twice, and was now most definitely thinking 1 of 3 things:


1. I have a weird bladder that makes me go to the toilet heaps.


2. The number says it all. I came back for that (kill me now).


3. I didn't go before, and FAKED it then, to come back now. Which is the truth, but still weird when uncovered.



Either way I look like the biggest weirdo ever. I did try to focus my weird energy on her, and wondered why after spending so much time in the bathroom she didn't think to ever go to the toilet then, but I noticed that along with returning to the bathroom she also ended up returning to work for a bit, so that was odd. Some pressing matters perhaps? So to speak :) LOL anything to lighten the mood.


So although she went to the toilet twice (I can't work out why) I'm all concerned with me being perceived as weird, of course, because I'm freaking abnormal with my toilet habits.


Sigh. See what I mean? Not only did my original definition of my numero uno grade parusesis redefine itself to a greater category, that of just simply PARUSESIS with no exceptions, but I embarrassed myself, and now I don't know what she is thinking.


Either way, whether she is thinking of one of the above explanations as to why I went to the toilet twice, or all of them, or even in my wildest dreams NONE of them, the fact remains that anything having to do with you going to the toilet, and someone observing you displaying an odd toilet habit, is greatly (all together now)...


EMBARRASSMENT.


Good thing I'm not that close with her. Oh well I may just blurt something out to her in the upcoming Christmas party. That should solve all my toilet issues.


All this talk of pee-ing has made me want to urinate now.


I have to go.


Wish me luck.

Random Observations of My Life

I feel like writing, and so here I am, writing about nothing in particular it seems.



And so it looks like I'm cold-y. I was flu-y, a couple weeks ago, with what apeared to be a severe throat infection. I say "what appeared" because I never actually confirmed it with the doctor. I didn't have to. I could feel it. The intense burning was enough confirmation for me. I just went to see him for the drugs. I do not apologise for my gratification from instant pain relief.

So now I've been sneezing, A LOT, I have a very very slight runny nose, and a decent amount of flem in my throat.

Great. My best friend the Flem. How I missed you so.

But I took some drugs last night (otherwise known as doctor prescribed tablets) deliberately left over from the last time I was sick, in the case of an emergency such as this.

I don't know whether it was the tablets, the pasta I ate, or the fact that my body had to wind down after my oh-so-hot shower. Or from the marathon Hubbie and I went through on the weekend which has left me wondering if my internal organs are still intact. And by marathon I don't mean in the sprinting sense.

Great. I just sneezed again. And someone here at work has just sprayed perfume. BEAUTIFUL. Because that is really going to subdue my nose which is becoming runny again. YAY me. And then I will have to go and blow my nose in the toilet again, because I have some unreasonable weirdness about doing it in front of people. I find it embarrassing. Just as I find embarrassing peeing in public toilets when there's someone else in there. I guess it's a case of mild shy bladder syndrome. Mild because I'm only affected when there's only one other person in the toilets. If there's more than one person, I'm not that concerned. So I have a bladder with a numero uno grade parusesis phobia. It's picky too. Seems my bladder takes after me.

I just blew my nose, very quietly. Yes I can't be stuffed going back into the bathroom. I'll just have to wonder forever (or 'til my next toilet break, whichever comes first) if I have snot hanging out my nose. Hey, maybe there's a phobia for that too. Snotaphobia it should be called.

Don't laugh, I just found out my fear of moths is a real one: Mottephobia.


Sigh.

Do you ever wonder why you dream so often at night? And by dream I don't mean the dreaming you do when you're asleep, I'm referring to the conscious dreams and hopes you have, that fly through your head at night when funnily enough you should be relaxing in order to fall asleep. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I have an overly active imagination. Maybe it is true that with Neptune ruling my birth number, I am prone to vividly wild and colourful dreams and fantasies.

But things just seem to pop into my head at night, the most interesting and weirdest ideas, but also the most fantastic. The most recent thing I've decided, as a result from laying-in-bed-at-night dreaming, was to start writing books. It's an old idea, which has recently been re-born from a conversation shared with Hubbie about our aspirations in life. It suddenly occurred to me during this discussion with him, that I actually held no current motivations to pursue a higher position in my workplace. When I realised I was happy where I was, and had come as far as I'd wanted to, I had to wonder: Did I have any work-related aspirations left?

For so long I had wanted to be a part of this industry, and now that I'd achieved it, and I was part of a large organisation, I had no desire to move up.

So I thought. And thought. And I didn't have to think much longer until it hit me.

I pictured writing. Creating. Then I pictured writing AND bringing that to the screen.....

And just like that. It was there all along. I'd always loved writing. I gave up the pursuit into that area academically after Martin "bastard" Bashir's disgustingly discriminative and one-sided interview against Michael Jackson during my first years at uni. The fact that he was a journalist, put me off the idea of writing for a living (well that, and also most magazines are published in the adjoining state, and I didn't see myself moving there, or working for a newspaper firm here.)

So instead I had looked to film and television. I never even considered writing an actual book, as I didn't want any time spent on a profession that I believed would not give me many returns, a profession that would be hit-and-miss in terms of success and monetary rewards.

So I just forgot. Forgot about my love, forgot about my dreams. Yes, I was still pursuing one line of interest, in tv/film, but what had happened is that I went through a grown-up phase. It's a phase in which you decide to grow up too fast, be all responsible, and unfortunately in turn, let go of the one thing you do well. Really well.

Until just recently. I had my "life talk" with Hubbie, where he initially put the idea into my head, which was subsequently followed by my discussion with Red, waiting in line for the midnight screening of Eclipse. And since then I've had thoughts running through my mind a mile a minute. Story ideas, characters; all a follow-through on things I've thought before, started before, but never really had time to devote to. And the difference now you might ask? Well now I have the time. I can make the time after work hours. I can work, AND pursue a love of mine. Now, I'm living in ATS rather than BTS. After-The-Secret. I NOW know that there is an abundance of love, happiness, health, wealth and success, available for EVERYONE in this Universe. It's all there only if you believe in it.

And I truly, truly believe in it.

So I guess that brings me back to my prior point. About only dreaming at night, while lying in bed. I find myself imagining things, planning things, and half the time I don't even follow-through with them. It's so annoying. I put it down to time, but really it comes down to lack of motivation and determination. And I hate to admit to being lazy and slack, so trust me this isn't an easy feat. And obviously, my book comes into this. I have so many ideas, but I'm unable to organise everything in my head. Maybe that's the true reason. Because everything is so 'blah' in my head, I find myself lacking a bit of 'POW!' to actually start anything. But I will make that change I tell you!

So, have you ever wondered about shit films? Like, you know, really random, horribly produced, directed and acted movies? I find myself, every so often, after watching a really crap film, wondering who the bozo was to give the go-ahead on such an atrocity? I mean, when something goes straight to video, wouldn't it make sense to NOT let that same guy act/direct/produce again? In this case it's probably a case of money, and money doing the walking and the talking on the way to creating something resembling a film, but falling way far short of it.

So all these points combined, and I will write a freaking fantastic set of books. And it will be full of awesomeness and goodness and inspiredness. Hopefully not including any of those 3 words as it wouldn't get past the draft stage.


Oh yeah, and the getting it to the screen part? Well, I have another dream. And going by my industry contacts.... LOL. I'd love to see it on the screen. My ideas, born from my brain, for all to see, because I truly believe, they can be acted out in a tremendous way.

Yes I know I aim big. It's not my fault. I just dare to dream.