AAAAAAAAAAAAA

[dragonlady7]

I have a 15-hour workday tomorrow. So I need to chill out and take a shower and go to bed, despite my feeling of distress at all the crap I didn't get done today that I had to, when i instead spent 5 hours on a Christmas gift I didn't finish.
Yikes.

Anyway.

So I went and ran the hot water and got into the shower, only to discover a GIGANTIC millipede in there. The kind that has a bazillion feathery little legs and moves SO FAST. I shrieked and leapt out, like a girly-girly girl of the most useless kind. Dave came in, in real distress over what could make me do that. He was understandably disgusted when I pointed out the horrifying monster in the shower. It was, after all, less than the length of my pinky finger. And only mildly poisonous.
But I have this thing.
About millipedes.
This thing: I hate them. I loathe them and fear them.
More than anything.
Eugh. Eugh eugh eugh. Eugh. I don't know.

Spiders I can tolerate. I have a kind of hozho kind of approach to them, like the Navajo and the rattlesnake. Peace, brother-- I occupy my space, you occupy yours, you kill things I want killed anyway, welcome to it, let's just stay a distance apart. Because spiders, likewise, are horrifying, with their alien legs and weirdness and oh Lord, there are some wolf spiders around my parents' house that are the size of your palm and that is NOT RIGHT in New York State's Eastern Woodlands kind of clime, I assure you-- but you know, peace to them, and all. They are mighty hunters and stay out of my shower, and I go out of my way to avoid them, and we are all OK, and sometimes I have to catch one in a glass and put it out of my bedroom, but for the most part we seldom really cross paths.

But millipedes?
Millipedes just mean your house is dirty.

And oh my LORD they are horrifying.

Freak out, freak out, freak out.
Now I can't face getting into that shower. Oh lord, I just can't. Oh, oh, horrors, no.

I am thoroughly disgusted with myself, but... I can't. I-- ugh, millipedes are so icky and scary. And I am so utterly, utterly, utterly an embodiment of all I despise about the 'weaker sex', but here I am figuratively standing on a chair and shrieking. And oh my, my hair is loose and when it swings across my back I absolutely have to leap up and check for bugs because I think it's their legs-- their feathery, million little legs-- oh, to get all Conradian, the horror, the horror.

Yes. Joseph Conrad. It has reached that level. Funny, I was just thinking of Heart of Darkness today, thinking of him and his little pilgrims squirting lead into the bushes, thinking of his steersman and dumping him overboard so the cannibals shouldn't have him, thinking of him throwing his "perfectly good" shoes away because they were full of blood-- but I can't remember when I was thinking of him, or why. It might have been during the Shopping. (the shopping, the shopping)

No, I won't analyze literature (i started to, but no), because it's a blatant ploy to distract myself from what a wretched little girly-girl I am. I may have to resort to fanfiction to calm myself-- during some of the Printing (the printing, the printing) I had a moment of weakness and opened a long-dormant document and added a few lines to a conversation between a 19-year-old Eomund and the mysterious Thorongil, of all people. ("Why, captain," Eomund asked, "have you been unlucky in love?") But that fic is stalled firmly in the fact that I just don't know enough about shieldmaidens and can't make myself make it up. Sad, because Anglachel had given me permission to use her events of the summer of 2975, from Hands of the King-- which, HASA members, if you haven't read, you bloody well should. She's up to chapter 17 now and there's more than one Faramir fangirl moment in there if you care to tease it out. (This latest chapter, posted today, has a bit with the City's walls, and hair and wind. Squee, understatement.) God, Young!Denethor is hawt, in his grim, badass, understated, sarcastic kind of way.
I just don't know; Theodwyn doesn't really want to speak to me, and there are ten years I just don't know what to do with. Bleargh. Also, I am repeatedly tempted to kill off Morwen Steelsheen when the stand-up thing to do would be to make peace with her. I'm sorry, she has to be the baddie, and I am not writing a Thengel/Morwen fic to explore her beforehand.
Please?
No! God, what a quagmire.

Am I insane yet? Perhaps. Can I summon my courage and face the shower? Maybe. Am I a worthless little girly-girl, or worse still, a hack? Most likely! But Dave assures me the dragon is slain (he is so brave, perhaps I should fawn over him like a girly-girl ought, except he hates that and would be rude to me, which would shatter the remainder of my exceedingly frail ego) and so I really should go face that shower again.
Also, it's 11, and I have to be up by 8, and I have a bit of a sleep deficit to make up. Bollocks!

Comments

[mother2012.livejournal.com]

I assume that you are all properly asleep by now, so this bit of advice is totally wasted.

But I'll offer it anyway.

Get out the Clorox, put it in a spray bottle with water, and spray the whole shower.

I'm not saying it will kill the little horrors - I have no idea whether it would or not - but to me at least, the bloody shower would then *feel* clean.

[dragonlady7.livejournal.com]

Heh-- I had some Clorox Bathroom Cleaner and I did briefly scrub the shower.

[kkatowll.livejournal.com]

Heh. When Trevor and I were hiking, we came upon the dead carcass of a moose. Now, you know how BIG moose are. And this was had fallen down dead right on the trail, blocking it completely, and around it was incredibly dense tall bushes, so I couldn't get around. My only choice would be to WALK ON IT.

I swear, I nearly quit hiking right then. Trevor thought he would have to carry me over, but finally I closed my eyes and ran across it with him guiding me.

So I'm with you on the girly-girlness. I mean, it was DEAD. All...dead...and I had to walk on it, and hear the bones crunch...eugh. it was awful.

[kittyc1978.livejournal.com]

I have girly issues as well, I can totally understand the feeling. In the PNW, we have monster spiders too! and millipeeds eeew. But the worst are Silverfish. I can't even say that bug out loud, I shiver and eahlekhfra.
freak out!


Mice are fine as long as they are not running at your feet, which they always do in your house, which is why we jump on chairs. Gahhh!