Creepy, crawly hypocrite

Yesterday afternoon, as I stared out my bedroom window, I noticed a spider sitting quietly on the glass. Upon closer inspection, and after screaming a little bit, I discovered that the spider was sitting on its web, which was located on the outside of the glass. Phew. Close call. No screaming necessary. I decided that it was safe to look at the spider up-close, since we were separated by a sturdy pane of glass. I noticed that the spider was actually in the process of constructing its neat little web, and i got to see it work its natural magic. The little creature spiraled around and around its growing web, all the while creating and distributing silken thread, weaving it into a geometrically perfect pattern. Amazing!

I took a few pictures of the process, but unfortunately, you can't see the web in them. All you can see is a spider that looks like it's floating in the air, since the pictures were taken through the window glass. Here's one of the shots I took. (You'll have to look closely for the little critter in this one. Some people get the jitters even when looking at a picture of a spider, so I'm not posting any close-ups.) And yes, I know I'm not a great photographer and this is not a good picture. I am okay with that.

Anyway, my sense of wonder was reawakened for a few minutes. I think I might have even stopped to consider the beauty of all living creatures, great and small, before continuing with the rest of my day. Hmm. That's not normal for me.

This morning, as I made my bed, I happened to glance up at the window and see my arachnid friend once again. A tiny smile probably (maybe...) graced my lips as I thought about how talented that little creature was. I shook the wrinkles out of my blanket and prepared to fold it, when I felt something land on my foot. I looked down and saw that a FREAKING SPIDER was crawling across my toes, racing for the safety of the shadows under my bed. I yelled/shrieked "HAI-YAH!!!" and smashed it with a paper towel. "HA!" I threw the nasty carcass away triumphantly. (I normally don't kill spiders. This isn't because I love them or anything, obviously. It's more that I'm usually to freaked out to get close enough to squoosh them. I guess adrenaline took over in this case.)

A few seconds later, I was startled by the horrible realization that I am the walking, talking definition of hypocrisy. One afternoon I'm admiring the beauty of a spider's instinctive creativity, and then the next morning I'm smashing its sista' with a disposable towel? What the flip, Crofty?! How can I lack so much compassion? How can I live like that? What changed so drastically from one day to the next that would cause me to transform from a curious, appreciative human being into a creature-killing monster? What made spider #2 so deserving of death, and what made spider #1 the object of an amateur artistic photo shoot?

I'll tell you what made those spiders what they were.... Spider #2 freaking touched my foot and spider #1 stayed outside where it belongs. That's it.

**This post was probably offensive to people who really like spiders/other animals. Sorry. But I'm really not bloodthirsty. I cried when my brothers caught a fish at the lake and tried to convince me to eat it for lunch. Spiders are just... nasty. And that is my shallow rationalization. The end.**