Today got off to a bad start when I had to shower directly beneath a spider. It was one of those whispery ones that has a body like a grain of wild rice and unfeasibly long legs like strands of hair. If it had been a human it would have looked like a 20 foot high Kate Moss. And potentially, that would have been a scarier sight above my shower this morning. But as it was, I felt threatened. I probably could have inhaled it and not noticed; however, I saw him/her chilling on its spindly web above my head and, in my defenceless nakedness, I was scared.
The steam and droplets of ricocheting moisture from the shower combined with the suction from the extractor fan to create some fairly adverse weather conditions for my new friend, who scuttled about frantically for the duration of my washing experience, searching for some security. I would have pitied the poor creature if I hadn't been phobic/pathetic. In the end, I burst out of the shower with a whimper several minutes earlier than normal, having washed on fast forward. Thankfully I was outwardly unscathed but I think the emotional scars may take longer to heal.
And now I am ill. This is livid-making as I have to sing in approximately eighty-three carol concerts over the next week or two and I need my voice. I have stuffed myself with salad, water, vitamin smoothies and fruit. And in a few minutes I will go to the gym to boost my immunity, even though I would rather be dipped in sick than exercise. What's really annoying about this new malady is that just this morning, after the arachnoshower, my mother suggested I may have been burning the candle at both ends over the past few days. Due to her continual oscillation between saying I am too busy and not busy enough, this latest update sent me into a frenzy of sarcasm - and even my father backed me up, saying I was fit enough to handle it. But now, only a few hours later, I am weak and feeble and my mother is vindicated. Which is a worse sensation than the illness and the spider combined.
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