I thought I was going to die...

yesterday afternoon. Ok. Just kidding. But I did have quite the frightening moment. I saw a centipede. (again). I think out here I see at least one or two every year. It's pretty horrible. Yesterday I was sitting in the kitchen, and I heard the dog start barking. My dog never barks unless something is there. So as I walked to the open front door, I saw what the dog was barking at. There crawling on the inside the screen door, was a massive 6-inch centipede, with a dark body, yellow legs, and an orange head. I shiver just thinking about it. I screamed at the top of my lungs in terror, and slammed the front door shut with all my might. Then I stood standing behind the entry way fretting and pacing back and forth, trying to figure out how I should kill it. In my state of panic, my mind was completely blank (I tend to freeze in emergency-type situations). So I picked up the phone and called Joel to find out what to do. He told me to find a giant rock to smash it. Fortunately at that point, I remembered that I had a hammer set aside for this specific occasion. (Why couldn't I remember this? I rehearsed this scenario in my head so often, yet forget about it as soon as the scenario came into play). So I got off the phone with Joel, went out the side door, and ran around the front of my house to find the centipede exactly where I left it - in between the front door and the screen door. It was crawling on the side of the door frame. I took aim...and missed. It fell onto the ground, and scrambled for shelter - right underneath my door, and into my house!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!! At that point, I was overcome with horror and let out the most terrifying scream ever. I ran in the front door, just in time to see the centipede crawl into the woven, rolled up hammock resting behind the front door. I grabbed the hammock, tossed it outside onto the front porch. Then I picked it up again and shook the centipede out of the hammock. The centipede fell onto the concrete porch. I took aim more carefully now (there was no way I was going to let this crawl back into my house), and hit the centipede on the head with my hammer....and then I made sure to hit the other end, because it's hard to tell the head from the tail and then I smashed it a couple more times just to make sure it was really dead. The whole entire time I was smashing the centipede, I was screaming at the top of my lungs in terror, because I was indeed, that terrified. Poor Brody had no idea what was going on as I was screaming at the top of my lungs, and ran to hide in a bush. After I finished smashing the centipede, I stood there watching it for about ten minutes, making sure it wasn't going to crawl off. I finally put a big rock over the dead centipede laying on my porch, because I was too scared to pick it up and dispose of it...and Joel was working out of town, and none of my neighbors were home. (And yes, I would have actually asked one of them to come over, and throw it away for me, and they would have done it too! Because they're nice like that) So I left the dead centipede under a rock on my porch for the rest of the day until Joel came home from work and threw it away. I like him a lot. He's nice.