Cast your eyes over this -



Admitedly, it doesn't look too shiny in this picture, but trust me, it positively gleams in real life. Alas, I have suffered for my labours. I woke up this morning with sore, stiff wrists and lower arms from T-Cutting and waxing it. Twice, in the case of the roof and bonnet because they looked crappy the first time.

I am currently recovering from a mild case of Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Last night I was attacked by a beast in my bedroom. No, unfortunately Hugh Jackman did not pay me a visit. It was something else large, hairy and unnervingly sinister - a bloody ginormous spider! At approximately midnight, while I was sat on the floor fiddling on the laptop, it ran over my leg, across the room and under my desk. I stifled a scream as everyone else in the house was asleep. Unfortunately, this also meant I was unable to get my dad to rescue me from the monster and had to go to bed knowing it was still in my room and there was a possibility that it could crawl over me in the night.

I had several nightmares about the spider during the night. Several, because I must have woken up about 50 times, in a cold sweat, swiping at my hair that was tickling my face and impersonating spider legs.

This morning before I started doing any work I got on my knees and checked under my desk and prodded my bags and papers lying abround it, because that was where I was going to be sitting all day. I couldn't find the horrible thing and mum said it probably wasn't even in the house anymore anyway, so I got down to some work and forgot about it.

About two hours later I was going to go and speak to mum, who was in her room, but I was cold, so I picked up my hoody, which had been on my wicker chair all night. As I started walking across the landing and started pulling my hoody on I - God, I'm shuddering just at the memory - came face to face with IT. It had crawled up my chair (see! It could have SO easily crawled up my bed in the night instead!) and settled down to sleep in the hood of my hoody.

I threw it on the floor and screamed my head off. Mum came running, thinking I was being attacked, which as far as I was concerned I was, and I just jumped up and down and pointed at my jumper on the floor. After getting a bit off sense out of me, mum poked around at the jumper, keeping it at arm's length, and discovered my attacker. My mum is just as terrified of spiders as me, if not more so. However, she picked up the hoody - again at arm's length - and carried it very slowly downstairs. She said later that she got a rush of adrenaline which gave her the courage to do so that must have been caused by the need to protect her baby. The same kind that allows mothers to lift cars off their trapped children and such, I expect. It moved and I screamed and mum told me not to becasue it'd hear me and crawl up her arm. I opened the front door and she threw it onto the porch. It didn't move, so we started kicking the hoody to get it off. It then turned, and ran toward the house. We ran straight in, slammed the door, locked it and then stood staring at the floor, waiting for it to crawl in under the door. Fortunately it decided that it preferred sunbathing on the wall instead of eating alive two defenceless women, which was where it stayed for a good while before disappearing off. To start a whole new reign of terror somewhere else, no doubt. It took me a good while to control my breathing and mum was visibly pale. But I think, with a bit of time and patience from friends and loved-ones, we shall eventually get over the trauma.

I did try to get a picture of it when it was on the wall to demonstrate its monstrous size and ferocity, but unfortunately I couldn't get quite close enough for the picture to not be blurry - i.e within 10 metres of it. You shall just have to take my word for it.