“Charlo is dead.
We had an issue about boundaries.
I am not sorry.”

This was the WhatsApp message I sent to someone 12,000km’s away from me to confess to them that the spider who had recently invaded my living space, was now dead.

They say that what you are seeking, is also seeking you. I will take it a step further and say that which you are actively not seeking but spending a lot of time worrying and fearing, will eventually find you.

How do I know? Because I literally just got ambushed from under my mosquito net by what looks like a rather vengeful cousin of Charlo’s. They’ve found me *gulp*

My friend had been heavily campaigning for me to spare this spider’s life and thought that by naming it Charlotte (or rather calling it by the Zimbofied version of the name, i.e. Charlo) after that famous spider character from that famous children’s book, I would sympathise and co-exist peacefully with the critter. That’s when that darn Spider took it too far, I tell you! It went from being acceptably aloof and staying out of my line of vision to being quite brazen and scuttling around on the floor/ The. Floor. Stick to the walls, dammit.

I wonder if people who loathe cats find themselves coming home to just find a cute kitty lounging on their window sill, just nje, or catching some zzzz’s on their bed. I would honestly do cartwheels if I came home to such a delightful scenario…and promptly attempt to smother the kitty to death with all my love.

But NO, I have 8 legged monstrosities that like to pay me visits and taunt me on the daily, despite news of the high body count that results from such visits to my general vicinity.

I’ve been told, by those whom pride themselves on not having such inferior and indulgent things like a phobia *insert eye roll* that I keep spending too much time speculating on the whereabouts of a spider at any given time, that I am inadvertently attracting them to me. When I first heard this theory, I scoffed in outrage. Well, until I was getting molested for the third time in a week by several different spiders in the shower.

Also, as I reflect on my incidences of abuse and ridicule by these creatures I realise I am the only person who has had the misfortune of having a spider nest take up residence in their car and explode one day, mid drive to work, almost causing me to plunge into oncoming traffic. Not to mention the time I battled it out with my wind wipers and a rather feisty Baboon Spider during a a very long car ride…and the stubborn thing still lived despite all my ninja efforts.

So am I the problem. Am I calling out to these things and using my “The Secret” powers on them instead of things like winning an all expense paid trip to Morocco or having Jesse Williams pitch up at my door…shirtless *ahem*.

It reminds me of how whilst growing up, my family had 3 cats (where else do you think I get my feline devotion from?).  These goddesses were very much loved, but like all African pets, weren’t allowed or encouraged to linger around in the house…despite my siblings and I’s best efforts behind my mother’s back. One day, over a weekend, we were visited by extended family members from kumusha/our rural home.. As you may already have figured out, owning cats as an African family was deemed very odd and unpopular at best so when visitors came through they would repeatedly ask us to keep our cats away from them…the same way you’d ask someone to keep their black mambas away from them.

During the visit my siblings and I were all gathered in our packed living room looking like dutiful (but bored) offspring during the rather repetitive exchange of traditional greetings when our oldest cat,  Susie, strode in like Beyonce during the Half-Time 2013 Superbowl Performance. Lawwwwwd, conversations stopped quite abruptly and silence reigned supreme. To make matters worse, Susie, decided to plant herself right in front of my one aunt and just stare at her with a look of such bored disdain.  My aunt looked like she had seen satan himself and started to shrilly command us to remove the cat, as she seemed to almost want to stand on her seat..

My mother delivered me with the most loaded side-eye ever that clearly said “Why are you still sitting down, get to it already…or else” and I went to save my beloved kitty-cat from all the random chaos. I was also quite relieved to have escaped the confines of the living room,  and rewarded Susie with something yummy for her efforts.

The irony is that out of everyone petrified of cats in that room, my aunt was the worst of the bunch. And that’s whom my cat decided to waltz up to, as bold as brass, in a languid sashay.

Sadly spiders aren’t as easy on the eye or cuddly, so they don’t get rewarded for appearing in creative spaces and giving me nightmares. They do get an A for Effort though, but sadly all that’s waiting for them when they trespass into my sanctuary is Death.

Moral of the story: Channel your nervous, paranoid energy on more helpful things…like the cure for cancer and winning the lottery..

Happy Monday, chickens!

V x

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