2004-07-03 @ 10:49 p.m.
|Ever notice how everytime they put out a Spiderman movie, us Arachno-phobes have to suffer through a proliferation of stories and pictures of REAL spiders in the media and the internet? Yark. PEOPLE...this is a movie about a guy in a red suit, why do we have to see extreme close ups of black widow spiders getting ready to climb into a window.
I know its the very one crawling in MY window. I recognize the surroundings. Itís my window frame. And thereís my cat looking at it disinterestedly and I know sheís saying ďOh, another spider...Iím mad at Witty...since she hasnít fed me any wet food in a week, so Iíll just pretend like I donít see that deadly spider crawling towards her jugular vein. Heh, heh, thatíll show her.Ē
I actually woke up to a flurry of face slapping two mornings ago. I thought I felt something scurrying across my face just as I was gaining consciousness about 8 a.m. and that was when I abruptly started whacking myself silly. That certainly woke me up, as you might guess, because I just knew there was a giant black widow somewhere in my bed covers since it had just tripped the light fantastic across my face. I had felt it...the little fucker. But I couldnít find it, and now my cat was snickering down at the bottom of the bed.
So I got up and went to the bathroom to look in the mirror. There was a small red spot on my upper lip. A BLACK WIDOW BITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew it. Call 911...I only have minutes, no seconds to live! The EMTs must be able to give me an antidote...I must get it immediately. I must get EMTs here immediately. Maybe one of them will be cute. Maybe one of them will be single. Maybe I can feign unconsciousness so heíll give me mouth to mouth resuscitation...oh wait, I have a BLACK WIDOW BITE ON MY LIP. Help!! Help!!
Oh wait...I think its a pimple.....Yeah, its just a pimple. Why am I getting a pimple on my lip for Crissakes? Damn. How unattractive is that. It could have been A BLACK WIDOW BITE though. Ya never know. Ok, probably not. False alarm. Sheesh. Now I kinda feel dumb. Even my cat is making fun of me. Iím such a freakiní failure.
Today was the first time in almost a week I had more than a dollar in my purse. My SSD check finally sailed into my bank account today, and I went out on a spending spree like a lottery winner. Now donít get the wrong idea. I was just buying things I really needed like cat litter, a hair cut (ok, I didnít really need that, but I wanted one, since my wild mane is just a little too wild these days), gas for my car, and a pair of jeans at Salvation Army. None of my clothes fit. Theyíre all too big because of my weight loss, so I grabbed a pair of jeans that were on sale for $5.50. Probably a frivolity, but shut up. I also really, really wanted to go see Michael Mooreís ďFahrenheit 9/11Ē, but thatíll probably have to wait, until I get my first nanny check. Also had a taco out. Whee! Just slightly less than the $32.67 piece of pizza I had last week.
My Eye-talian landlord was also at my door at about 9:20 wanting my rent check. I was almost positive the SSD check was in the bank, but I was still nervous about handing her the check for $500. Not sure why people who call me or come to the door anytime before high noon always think Iím sleeping. She rang the doorbell and then said, ďI hope I didnít wake you upĒ.
Well, no, I was just lying naked with my vibrator between my legs, so it took me a minute to disengage it, slam all my sex toys into their box, jam it under the bed, pull on my underwear, find a nightgown (since I donít wear them), put it on, run out, and try not to look like I was just masturbating when you rang the doorbell...howíd I do?Ē (grin)
I have to say...I donít usually look that flush and healthy when I first wake up, ya dumb cluck.
I did get to finish what I started later in the day. Moved Sex Central out to the living room for a little variety and finished up with a big finale, which had been lacking in my earlier attempt. Yay me.
Had a lengthy conversation with my mom today. I was fine for a couple of days, and now my anxiety is once again building about the nanny thing as my starting date gets closer and closer and my worrying about what Married Guy will think about everything is now on the front burner, but no word from him. He is busy this weekend, but I have a feeling he probably wonít answer me anyways, and Iím getting all insecure and anxious about that. I keep coupling up, losing him with losing ďAĒ at the end of August. These two men are very important to me, and I really canít afford to lose both. With ďAĒ, I donít really have a choice. Heís making a career change, and Iím losing my most excellent shrink, which makes me feel incredibly sad and empty, but what to do?
But with Married Guy...well, heís my best friend. I love him. I donít want to lose him. And I feel like Iím losing potentially everything our 6 year friendship has generated, and am trading it for an unknown quantity...the Nanny Guy. I had been okay with him for the last couple of days, but now Iím falling back into not wanting to go there again. There was a call on my caller ID from him when I got home today, but I didnít return his call. Iím getting more and more nervous about packing up my computer, my clothes and my cat and moving into some strangers house in 1.5 days.
I am Queen of the Anxious Girls. Iím worrying about everything from being yelled at to being raped. I donít know this man, and how well does ďAĒ really know him. Was he a patient? I know I was a patient, with a very full platter of interesting diagnosis. Bipolar, social anxiety, borderline personality disorder, adult children of alcoholic...to name a few. ďAĒ even added sexual addiction recently. I can barely walk two steps without bumping into some symptom. Is it any surprise I have to take a clonopin just to keep my head my head from spinning like in ďThe ExorcistĒ. I didnít get on disability for nothing.
So I figure Greg will probably call me in the morning like he usually does. Throws me off balance. Heíll call while Iím battling black widow spiders at the north end of my bed. Or when Iím sleeping. Its probably best that way. If Iím sleeping, at least I donít be so anxious leading up to his phone call.
Damn you ďAĒ. You being gone during this two week period is the worst ever. I am so in need of someone to talk to about all this. Was this timing all planned? Well, it really sucks. I am in such bad shape anxiety wise. I guess bouncing 93 checks this week didnít help either. I just sort of feel like the Titanic just seconds after it hit the iceberg. I know Iím going down...its inevidible...but thereís nothing I can do about it. And it just sucks. So maybe that spider bite to the lips was just the thing I needed.
Here spider, spider....here spider, spider....No not Tobey Maguire, although I do tend to like those pale, boyish types....
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty