My Leggy Visitor

I am pretty sure that there is a spider hanging off of my crutches, which are currently placed next to my bed.
It is a small spider, the kind that requires a microscope to identify its eight legs. But there it is, dangling from its web as if there is no problem with it taking up camp on my crutches. 

Though my irrational fear of spiders would normally prevent me from grabbing a tissue out of the box next to me and squishing it, this spider is so miniscule that I wouldn't even have a problem with it.

There is, however, an issue. My ceiling fan is currently on full blast, causing said arachnid to move around at a dizzying speed. This amount of movement greatly diminishes my chances of killing the spider on first attempt, giving it the chance to move from my crutch to my arm which would be nothing short of disastrous for a number of reasons, the least of which being my parents running down at the sound of my screams.

So I figured I could walk over to my light switch, turn off the fan, then take care of the spider accordingly. But reality hit hard as I realized getting to the light switch would require the assistance of my spider-infested crutches. 

Instead I will sit here, glancing at it once every five seconds, because as we learned from my bee friend, any more than that is too long.

<3