Horrifying.

I was minding my own business in the shower this morning. Lathering, rinsing, repeating. When my eye is drawn to one of the tiles in front of me by a sudden movement. I look closer (because my glasses didn't make it in with me) and staring back at me is an eight-legged, bulbous-bodied quarter inch of hairy spider. So as I stare at it nakedly, water dripping down, wondering what to do, it occurs to me that screaming and running out of the shower will do nothing but leave the spider in the shower, myself still entirely unclean, and my bathroom wet. And what's the point really? James Steidel will not be along to come and kill it for me.

So I finished my shower, dryed myself off (which I happen to do inside the shower in case you've never showered with me), and killed the spider. I didn't muster the strength to figure out a way of saving the disgusting little thing's life, but I just grabbed a tissue, smothered it, and flushed it to a sewery grave.