Arachnophobia

Unlike many others, I am not arachnophobic. Spiders are a little unnerving, sure, turning up unexpectedly with all those spindly legs and hairy bodies. I wouldn’t volunteer to lie for hours in a spider-infested casket to earn the Guinness record or anything. The thought of eating them alive for a reality show competition a la Patti Blagojevich* gives me the heebie-jeebies.

But I feel the same or worse about any other creepy crawly creature. If I see a spider in my house, I don’t jump up on a chair or scream for Curt to come kill it (in fact, Curt is more afraid of them than I am). And, if offered enough money, I’d reconsider the spider-infested casket scenario. In general, though, I’m content to just keep out of their way and let them serve their duty in the ecological chain, eating other insects and spinning their webs and living their spider lives.

Why do I bring this up? It’s because of the glass of water I keep on my bedside table in case I wake up during the night parched with thirst, which often happens. No need to get out of bed or turn on the light. Sometimes, though, I don’t wake for a swig of water all night long. Sometimes the untouched glass is still sitting there in the morning, waiting for me to take my first hit upon arising groggily, with barely a downward glance.

Let’s just put it this way: Fear Factor producers, I’m ready for your call.

*If you’re not from Illinois, you may not know that P.B. is the wife of our disgraced former governor. She did us Illinoisans proud on the 2009 TV show, “I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.”