It is with no small amount of trepidation that I return to this room and sit at this desk. Last night I vacated so swiftly I didn't shut down my computer. Out of the corner of my eye I spied the biggest freaking spider I've seen in this basement. Ever. It appeared out of nowhere and was creeping about on a stack of notebooks just to the left of where my computer sits. Then it disappeared. So I left and came back armed with the vacuum cleaner and a small plastic cup. If the little eight-legged bastard is too close to other small objects that I consider too valuable to be vacuumed into oblivion, which is my preferred method of dispatching marauding arachnids, my second choice is to pop a plastic cup over him creating a tiny spider jail cell. The spider has not returned. But he could be lurking anywhere. I stand, or actually sit, ready! If you ask me, this is a job for Newton and Einstein. But they're napping upstairs. I hate spiders. Maybe I just need to find that old lady who swallowed the fly and ask her if she's ready for the second course.