For the unqualified...

a self-love reminder

Late one evening, last week, a wolf spider crawled across my knee.

I killed it.

I maybe cried a little, I definitely died a tiny bit inside.

We sprayed for spiders, yet still one took a nibble of my cheek around Independence Day, as I slept.

Yesterday evening, as I sat on our garden swing to pass a little time before my Wednesday writing call, a bridge spider crawled up my leg. I felt its tickle, saw its monstrous size, screamed an expletive as I flicked it off, and spent the next twenty minutes stalking it around the garden. It is worth noting that she was very scared of me, and also that she was beautiful. I cannot in good conscience add the clarifier of for a spider–I can’t. Can we stop clarifying, please?

It’s a good book, for an indie book.

She’s super pretty, for a fat girl.

It’s a nice evening, for a Thursday.