Then, I went and got a studier form of paper, thinking to scoop it. But when I went to scoop it, touching a corner of the paper to its spider rear-end (Do spiders have what one would call a rear-end in the conventional sense? Surely they don't have butt cheeks? How does the end product of spider digestion exit? Wait. Wait. Are webs spider-poop???) and the spider moved one of its forelegs.
It was terrifying, but I took this small sign of life as a good omen for my day.
That's because I don't talk spider language.
Because, in reality, the spider was portending bad things:
|Toilet spider says: Today, you will BLEED!|
But it's okay. I'm alright. And the kitchen's clean. Sort of.