I had a real bad headache last night--caffeine deprivation. I had to quit watching Excalibur in the middle, get up, and go to my room. I was looking online to see if there were any movies I wanted to set the recorder for before I went to bed, when I was suddenly powerfully overcome with a desire to lie down. So I did.
Fully intending to get right back up, I left the lights on, put my head on the pillow, and stared up at the ceiling. I took my glasses off, which helped the headache a little (my glasses are an old prescription). And I started thinking, "Hey, I could sleep right now if I wanted. This is my bed. That's what beds are for, mostly."
I'm near-sighted. This means that I can see very clearly things that are really close to my eyes, far closer than normal eyes are supposed to be able to focus on. When I turned my head on my pillow slightly to the left, I saw very clearly a very enormous spider, waving his legs at me, filling my entire vista like a widescreen movie. Actually, bigger.
So I sprang from my bed (I love saying that). Fortunately, I keep a glass bunny nearby. I got it two Easters ago from my aunt for putting candy in. I opened it, and quickly clamped it around the spider, carrying him outside and tossing him into the grass.
Why do I always feel curiously bereft after letting spiders go? Maybe I should just let them hang out . . .