A spider; living the dream

A spider is living in my bathroom sink. Luckily, I have another bathroom sink. It’s just as good as that one. That one with the spider in it.

When I first saw the little spider I figured it would quickly disappear. That’s what spiders do. They suddenly appear. They suddenly disappear. You never see them again. Which is fine with me. My dreams do that too – appear and disappear – like they were never there.

But this spider is always there. Right out in the open! Glaring in full miniature spider-ish-ness on the white porcelain. Why doesn’t he go hide somewhere?

You probably think he’s dead. But he’s not curled up. And sometimes when I get home, he’s in a different part of the sink. But still aways in full sight. As if he isn’t a spider. As if I didn’t have spider-squashing abilities. Oh, I do.

I’m a talented woman. Spider smashing isn’t even one of my more remarkable skills. Unless you’re a spider. Then my powers would be truly remarkable.

Why is this spider still alive, then? I was just lazy the first time, and curious now that it’s been awhile. How long will he be there? What will he eat? What is he doing? Why doesn’t he go off into spider holes and do spider things?

I let a day pass and then another, curious about the strange phenomenon of the spider-in-the-sink. I checked on him regularly. And wondered. Still? Why?

By the 4th day I had concocted an imaginary explanation to that question. Here was a spider who, obviously, has found his dream home beyond all expectations. He won the lottery of life. This privileged spider, with a huge, shiny white porcelain expanse all to himself. Imagining himself to be as safe and secure as no other spider has ever been in someone’s bathroom sink.

I imagined that his sink was to him like a picture of a home for sale in Messinia, Greece, that I recently cut out of a magazine. Because it was beautiful. Simple. And entirely unobtainable.

This spider, the luckiest of creatures, briefly living a completely unobtainable life.

On Friday afternoon, as I was getting ready to leave to spend the weekend in Placitas, I went to tell the spider good-bye. I knew that if he were still there when I returned on Monday I’d have to evict him for failure to pay rent on his beautiful porcelain home. But he was already gone. He must of known it’s never good to overstay your welcome, particularly when you’re a spider.