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George and I

There was a spider living on my trash can, I called him George. I didn’t move him because technically I was outside in his home and even at that this was his address before it was mine. So I left him. But today, 2 weeks+ in and I’ve been apologizing to a spider for the inconvenience every time I open the lid. So I’ve been trying to limit my trash consumption – for the environment, I say, but we both know it’s for George. And I’m not scared of him I swear even if I don’t like the feel of his tickley feet on my head I also know I’ll be fine. It’s just my aversion to tickling. I appreciate spiders really, since I learned their value rather than focusing on a body I find strange. They keep the bugs away. Centurions standing guard around the perimeter of my kingdom, but not assassins, just nature. And I am a part of it.

It was trash day today though; I missed the pickup because I didn’t want to disrupt George but really I was chicken. Now it was morning and time to clean up yesterday and start today and that meant taking out the trash. And the gardeners came this morning with their leaf blowers and did what I couldn’t get up the courage over whatever it was to yield my broom in the same fashion and tear down his home. But they did. So I took out the trash.

I wasn’t sure if he made the ride, I supposed it didn’t matter either way so I didn’t look. After the ants settled down and I knew I’d made the right choice to do the thing I didn’t want to I thanked myself for getting up today. If I can get up and do just one thing a day I am proud. Now whether that’s a method of productivity or just how I stay alive is as clear as the terms of my relationship with George. George was maybe the one hanging on to the bottom of the can when I brought it to the curbside where I left him. Because as courteous as I like to be I have learned the value in doing what you have to. So I evicted him.

It’s for the best really, he’ll get to see more of the world, so much more than he’s experienced before from his perch over my trash lid. He’s off on new adventures. Of course that’s not how spiders think, they just do what they have to to stay alive.

I like to think the bugs around the dumpster are ripe for the picking, he’ll have a feast, if that’s to his taste. Of course there’s the chance he gets run over, stepped on or moves into the garage of a neighbor who isn’t so accepting of squatters. Granted at that point he’s inside and he’s supposed to be out. Then again Tony lives beneath my toilet and has yet to be thrown out so who knows, it’s a wild world out there. We’re all just doing our best to get by.

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