I heard some sad news today, and now I’m fed up. So I’m going out to buy some junk food and slob around eating it in front of the telly. I can only hope that the bloody
tarantula spider doesn’t come out again, and demand my food with menaces.
I mentioned wee creatures invading my space the other day, and I reckon that they’re developing a network now and ganging up against me. Last night I awoke at about 4am to find two wasps buzzing like twin-engined Cessnas around my head in bed. It was pretty scary. More specifically, they were buzzing around the lamp on the side table, which I’d failed to turn off when I’d fallen asleep over John Hillaby’s Journey Through Britain. That was no comfort, though, the lamp being only about 8 inches from my head, and so I had to decamp to the arm chair in the next room and sleep there.
That was scary too, though, since the last time I saw the
tarantula spider it was disappearing under the arm chair with a glare, and waving two legs aggressively in my direction. As I fell asleep on the chair, wrapped in my formerly spider infested Rab sleeping bag, I’m almost sure I heard mutterings from the carpet, and I dreamed that the blasted thing had crawled up the sleeping bag onto my tummy and that I’d had to brush it off my chest.
*takes deep, cleansing breath*
I need junk food NOW.