Just when I thought I was overcoming my aversion to spiders, the following took place in class:
While very seriously discussing unethical lawyer solicitation, I suddenly noticed something huge and brown scurrying across the floor in front of me. When I realized it was a giant spider, I almost gasped out loud, but managed to keep my calm. I seriously considered getting up in front of the class and announcing the presence of the eight-legged horror so I could carry out due diligence and execute it. However, I reconsidered since the teacher is a well-respected, dignified attorney (it’s all about networking, folks).
Thus, I kept quiet and eyed the eight-legged offender. I’m sure she and my classmates were wondering why I stopped paying attention to that part of the discussion and was staring into the corner. I’m sure they were also wondering why I kept shifting my feet around for the remainder of the class in hopes of discouraging any other horrors from crawling up my legs.
Needless to say, I have a ten-minute memory lapse from the lecture tonight, but can thoroughly describe to the you path the spider took and how he attempted to climb the wall, failed, and continued to walk along the wall until he disappeared from sight, leaving only the memory of the horror he inflicted and food for my imagination about where his cousins could be hiding.
...And, because I try not to post without a picture, here is an unflattering selfie I took at the beach a few weeks back. Just add a smidge of horror to this face and you'll get what I was feeling in the above anecdote.
