Jackass Spiders

I know it's a recurring theme and maybe you think I am part arachnid, or perhaps that I was a spider in a past life?  Either way, you would be right in assuming that a) I am obsessed by spiders, or b) I am a terrible house cleaner and my home resembles an abandoned house - complete with spider populations.  Both are correct.

The Jackass Spider Gang

But the spiders in my bathroom seem to be a unique bunch.  I think they must be teenagers.  Daddy long legs is their nickname (common name) but if I was a showoff I would call them Pholcidae as their family name. 

They seem like nerds, not very strong, fragile, certainly not athletic at all.  If they were school boys in the school yard, then I could imagine them being the boys who liked to read, or do science or maths.  Brainy, nerdy boys. 

Except these dangly legged spiders may not even be that smart.  They do the all the dumb things (thanks Paul Kelly).  You may recall my tragic bathroom legless incident?  Daddy Legless Spider Well, the offspring of our alcoholic, accident prone daddy spider, are just as reckless.

So, I am standing in the shower, having a lovely clean time, when this spider bungee jumps down from the ceiling into the area where I am standing.  Right in front of me.  What makes a spider do that?  I can only assume that it was a dare.  That up in the corner where the other spiders were hanging out, bored, one of them says

Steve. 

'Hey Steve!  I dare ya to drop down and scare the human' 

'Right, you're on Johnno.  Bet ya a big fly I can do it!"

So Steve gathers up his bungee web and launches himself down into the abysses.  I stand and watch, amused.  As he nears the steam and water, he starts to feel a bit giddy.  His web cord is swaying about, a few drops of water hit him and he starts to curl up and think that maybe this wasn't such a smart idea. 

The lads in the corner are all shouting at him.

'Oh ya wuss, scare her!'

'Come on Steve , go all the way'

Poor Steve the Spider is just trying not to faint from the steam.  He tries to climb back up the web, but its swinging about wildly.  His pride and his life are on the line.  If he lets go, his weakling body will get washed down the plughole and another spider tragedy will be on my hands.  I turn off the shower, the water and steam stop and Steve can get a better grip.  He slowly starts climbing back up to the corner of the ceiling.  His head is down, he is embarrassed in front of the lads. 

Did I imagine I saw one of them videoing this with their mobile phone?  Will it be on facebook later?  I hope not - my naked form on a Spiders facebook page might go viral - and not in a  good way.

I've done all the dumb things.

Daddy Legless Spider

There was a serious workplace injury in my bathroom this morning.  A poor Daddy Long Legs, on his way to work, across the bathroom tiles, over the bathmat, met with a disturbing fate.  Between you and I, I think he had been drinking, for he was wobbling all over the place in a very ungainly manner - come to think of it, he looked like all of his kind, totally uncoordinated and like he had drunk his fill, left the pub and was now walking home - in a zigzag fashion.

Meaning well, I tried to give him a lift, but he struggled and panicked and in all the ruckus ... one of his eight legs FELL off.   Yep, just fell to the ground where it lay on the white tiles twitching and moving like it was still attached.  I was really quite fascinated, in a gross way, and as I stood transfixed by the jerking limb, Mr Daddy One-Less Leg made his escape.  He was on a bit of a lean, but did his best to hobble up over the (now) crumpled bath mat to the safety of the bathroom cabinet.  I should have rendered first aid, but wasn't sure how to pick up his lost limb or if I should put it on ice or not?

The spider's twitching limb - sounds like a Halloween movie title

I watched his lifeless leg twitch for a full minute and a half ... isn't that just amazing?!

 

I left what remained of the spider, hiding under the kickboard of the cabinet. Poor guy ... he deserved a day off after that ordeal. 

Poor Mr Daddy One-Less Leg - rough day at the office

Wonder if I should advise Worksafe?  But I don't want them delving into his obvious alcohol problem ... this was 8am this morning - far too early for a spider to be drinking!  Bet he will have a hell of a hangover tomorrow and wonder how on earth he lost a leg.  Good luck explaining that one to the missus mate!  Great story for the mates however.

I am a perfectionist!

Which sounds lovely and you would imagine that I looked neat as a pin, with a house to match, a neat and tidy garden, children, husband, life!

BUT

I am also a 'all-or-nothing' which when blended with perfectionism is a recipe for chaos and disorder and certainly nothing near me is neat!  Its been the albatross around my neck since I was a child, and despite years of therapy prompting huge to-do lists (that as we know hardly ever get done) I am yet to tame this monster.

I blame two people for this gene.  One is my Grandma Brown.  She too was a perfectionist, but she missed the all-or-nothing add-on.  She set a standard of perfectionism that I have yet to see rivalled.  She was always neat and clean and tidy.  Never a hair out of place, her tweed skirts always perfect, the house neat ... picture Mrs Bucket Bouquet and you have my Grandma.  (they even look a little alike)

Grandma and me about 1967 ... I would imagine the fact the grass was not mown would have been a great annoyance to her.

Then the other person to blame is my mother.  A product of her upbringing, Mum too is a perfectionist.  She has a little of the all-or-nothing gene but has managed to override this with energy, drive and bloody mindedness.  Mum is a clean freak - you could eat off every floor in her house, including the toilet floor!  She washes dishes BEFORE they go into the dishwasher - and I don't mean she scrapes off food and does a quick rinse under the tap - no they are washed first!  She meets every child who enters the house with a wet flannel to the face and hands (she would do this to the adults too if she could get away with it).  Wearing shoes in the house is a hangable offence.

Under this generational weight, when I first moved out and had my own home, I found myself one day, on hands and knees vacuuming with the nozzle of the cleaner as I wanted the carpet super clean and perfect.  I remember this day like yesterday as it was the day I had a very clear thought "what the hell am I doing - I have become my mother and grandmother!!!"

From this day on, my brain had wars - I wanted to clean my house perfectly, but I would not let myself do it, I would NOT conform to the perfectionist in my DNA.  I wanted to, badly.  So I would do things like clean the bathroom perfectly but leave the toilet dirty.  Or leave cleaning the bathroom at all for days past when it really did need cleaning (the nothing) and then be so disgusted in myself that I would scrub it with 3 times the amount of bleach that it needed and wear through a new scrubbing brush.  It would take me hours but it would sparkle within an inch of its life (the all). 

And so went on this pattern, all my married life, through having kids, building new houses, building a business, right up to today where I still have this damned curse.  I wish I could just go and wash the windows.  What stops me is the thought process of - I will need all day to do them they are so bad.  I will need to sweep them all over with a broom, then vacuum them.  Then pre-wash them to get the bulk of the dirt off.  Then another really good wash with lots of hot water and soap and cloths.  Then a normal wash followed by a polishing.  I know they would look perfect and shiny but I don't have the time to commit to all day window washing.  So I don't do them at all as I can't do them perfectly.  Leaving windows that are so dirty and dusty and cobwebby that you would think the house was abandoned (except for the spiders*)

My dining room window spider display - pretty impressive huh!

I am trying hard to overcome this curse.  Tricking myself into doing things less than perfect.  I just tell myself that I will do a preliminary wash of the windows, and go back when I have time and do them perfectly.  Same with cleaning my bathroom, I tell my silly mind that I will just wipe over the bench and come back on the weekend with bleach and cloths and hot water and do it properly then.  Of course this seldom happens but I have at least cleaned - albeit not perfectly.

* I do allow spiders to live in my house - its another weird family trait.  I love to watch them closely and observe their little, hairy lives.  If I could, I would have a tarantula as a pet!

Another post on Spiders .. if you dare!