(As I typed that I felt something on my leg. Due to the nature of what I'm writing my mind said SPIDER and I ended up dropping my laptop. Smooth.)
My Mum think's it's hilarious to take pictures like this and pretend they're real. (For those of you not able to see that pic - it's a massive spider ON MY MUM'S HAND. She told me it had come in through the window at her friend's in Australia. Lies. It's a dead one in a museum. She once captured a massive house spider, put it in the sugar pot and put it next to me on the table after giving me a cuppa. Bitch. It's a good job that that's the only real child abuse I can recount in 23 years.)
I managed to let a teeny spider crawl on my hand at Bestival, mostly because I was so very drunk, but even then it made me feel all sick and awful afterwards.
London Zoo run an arachnophobia course, which comes recommended by Claudia Winkleman, but I can't go on it because, 1. It costs £130, and 2. I've no time left.
So what's a girl to do? We can laugh all we like, but for those that have ever seen me in the company of an arachnid you'll know that it's not something I find funny. Regardless of how much I'll joke. And how much of an idiot I look freaking out.
Seriously. I'd rather be locked in a room with a weeping angel than a spider.
Will it all get better when I'm out there? Or will I end up living a life that involves me checking under the toilet seat in a blind fear every time I need to go?
Tips welcomed. Unless they are sarcastic tips that involved links to pictures of spiders. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.