Is Fred Dead?

In case you missed the reference in the title, check out the lyrics of the Bar J Wrangler's Stupid Questions, they're classic.

So even though I went to bed incredibly late last night (intense online chatting to be done), I woke up naturally this morning. That is, if you can call "waking up gradually because of the construction next door" natural. It was light outside. That's natural.

Anyway, with some time to spare (well, not really), I rolled around under the warm blanket for a while. That's when I saw it: a black dot on my ceiling, closer to the window. I knew this day would come. My heart and breathing slowed simultaneously as I waited to see if it was moving. After an incredibly long time, it started jerking like something being electrocuted. Blech!

A few weeks ago, I thought about what I would do when this day arrived. I thought of how my cousin Lena's husband decided to catch one of their huge spiders and keep it as a pet until Lena got used to it. (If I recall correctly, the spider's name was "Fang.") So I thought, "Maybe I could name spiders so they were more like pets and I wouldn't want to kill them." Remembering this thought, I dubbed my morning visitor "Fred."

















Most spiders I've seen in Germany are incredibly like Daddy long legs, so as long as they stay away from me, I'm okay with leaving them. However, this guy was like the exact idea the general public has when hearing the word "spider." (I say "general public" because my idea is engulfed in horror and exaggeration of size.)

Fred kept lowering himself and going back up, making me nervous. Then he settled directly over my chair where I work on my computer. I have to keep looking up. Thinking of going to bed with him still there . . . I may have to kill Fred. Maybe he'll just have the funeral now to save time for later.