A spider story. I loathe spiders--there aren't words to describe how much. I bought a bug vacuum a few years ago primarily because of spiders (they don't suck up box elder bugs, anyway) and I just want all spiders to stay far, far away from me and my house.
With that as a prelude, imagine my pleasure to open the door into the garage Monday morning on my way to work just in time to watch a spider rappel from the top of the door frame. Of course, I was running late for the Evil Day Job (EDJ)--I always am--and he comes to a stop about 8 inches from the ground. I didn't have time to wait, so I brought my foot up and tried to drive him to the floor. I thought I had him, but I couldn't find a body. I checked my pants and my shoes, but I didn't see anything. Another check of the floor, but still no victim. I didn't have time to look any more and I hustled out the door.
And I spent the entire drive to work feeling creeping sensations on my legs. I kept reaching down and brushing at them, worried that the damn spider was crawling on me. I did a more thorough search of my clothing when I reached work, but all was clear, and when I got home from the EDJ yesterday afternoon, I examined the floor more carefully--even shaking the rug. No spider. So where the hell is he?
Writing didn't go real well yesterday. I read through the scene that I want to replace and cringed at how bad it was. I can't believe it took this long for me to see all the problems. I didn't have an immediate idea on how to fix it, so I worked on scene goals last night. The list isn't finished yet--I need to think on it some more--but I do have a better grip on my h/h and how they'd really be behaving as opposed to what I wrote. I hope to get some more thinking in today, and with luck, some writing done during lunch.
