Night of Terror

I really shouldn't be allowed to watch hospital dramas because they always make me cry but nevertheless, I got cabined up last night for an evening of snivelling on the sofa in front of House and Gray's Anatomy (I don't alway cry over these, but there were a couple of things yesterday that set me off).

Anyway, I was feeling somewhat tired and emotional when I eventually tottered off to bed, with make up streaked down my face.  I'd left the patio doors open as it had been such a glorious evening but when I went to close the curtains, there was an ENORMOUS spider lurking on the wall.  Normaly, I don't mind spiders but this was the size of a kitten.  It would have woken me if it had jumped on my bed in the night.  So, it had to go.  But how?

While I was pondering the spider, I heard it.  A menacing flutter, the light flickering from something flapping around the moth.  Suddenly, the spider seemed quite small.  I planned my next move (from behind the door) although the most tempting option was to shut the door, sleep on the sofa and hope the pure moth evil would have flown back out the door by the morning.  This was unfeasible for several reasons; my phone was on my bed and I needed it for my alarm (although by this stage I was starting to wonder if BT still did alarm calls), the moth might not fly out and could have been hiding somewhere, ready to pounce at a later stage and also reason was trying to knock on my head going 'Hello?  It's a moth, get over it and get to bed'.  However, on the upside, I wondered if the two giants of the night might not come together in an almighty battle, in which case I hoped the moth had its ass kicked.  Eight times, yeah!

Eventually, the evil one came to rest on the wall by the ceiling and armed with the bottle of kitchen surface cleaner, I went at it.  It flapped around and I sprayed and shrieked and jumped on and off the bed in terror.  It stopped again, on the other side of the and I went at it with a can of hairspray.  Not for me the natural look with minimal hold and this stuff may well have been made with the tears of Robert Smith.  Liberal spraying seemed to subdue it.  Was it dead?  Was it glued to the wall with extra strong hold In-Set?  Or was it just pretending, so it could dance on my face as I was drifting off to sleep? 

No time to worry about it now!  The spider awaits.  I ran to the kitchen for the usual tools (pint class, programme from the BFI) and ran back to my bedroom.  The moth was gone.  Shit!  I looked around the room frantically and eventually saw a horrible moth limb sticking out from the top of the door.  I hit it with the BFI programme.  I hit it a few more times, just to be sure.  Back to the spider again and the manoevre is going well until Wah!  a moth (thankfully smaller and less angry) landed on my wrist just as I was about to gently deposit the spider outside.  I jumped and the poor thing was flung out harshly into the world.  A few more minutes of running in circles, waving my hands and snivelling and I was eventually able to go to my slightly damp, yet fragrant bed.