The Itsy Bitsy Spider... was the size of a house cat.

Random Fact: The "close door" button in elevators is a lie.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and snapped in my retainer for the night, my usual routine. My space heather hummed in the background as I cozied myself in my twin size bed. And then things got confusing- lizards and other various reptiles and big fat hairy spiders. I’m talkin’ spiders the size of house cats. The first time I encountered the spiders, they had no reptilian companions and I awoke feeling anxious and terrified. The second time that week the spiders made an appearance in my dreams, I awoke feeling curious. Spiders again? Couldn’t I be a bit more creative?

I won’t bore you with the details of the dream, mostly because I can’t remember them, but also because I find it boring, PAINFULLY boring, when people recount their dreams. Dreams are only interesting to the person who had them. I find my mind wanders and my eyes glaze over the moment someone starts a sentence “So I had this dream last night…” On that note, I will proceed to write a blog about my dream.

I’m not usually one to buy into the idea of dream interpretations. Dreams, at least for me, seem like a random collection of thoughts and images that mingle together and make no sense. In addition, moments after waking up I’ve most likely forgotten my entire dream. I frantically grasp onto the little nuggets of dream I can recall, but to no avail. Unless of course that dream involves house cat sized spiders. Even more than the grotesque creatures themselves, I was perturbed that I dreamt of them twice in one week. So, I decided perhaps I would entertain this notion of dream interpretation.

As a general rule, I find those who swear by dream interpretations, tea leaf readings, or astrological signs to be untrustworthy. The same goes for those who watch Medium. Here’s the thing, if the Chicago Tribune lists my daily horoscope, am I to believe that every Sagittarius in the country, or at least Chicago and the surrounding suburbs, will have the same day as me? I think not.

A past job interview only supported my beliefs. About a year ago, I was looking to expand my horizons and began searching for a new job. Having worked in a salon as a receptionist for four years, customer service had become my forte My search began shortly after the New Year and I was delusional about resolutions and a ‘new me.’ So, I began searching more alternative spas that I would have otherwise described as phooey. I happened across a spa nearby called Karyn’s and landed myself an interview. As I visited Karyn’s website to prepare for my interview, I found her services and offerings a tad unconventional but brushed it off.

On the day of the interview, I met with Barbara, a woman with short curly hair and a tendency to cut me off as I was answering her interview questions. She apparently was good friends with Karyn herself and would be my direct supervisor were I to be hired. She asked the obligatory questions about my strengths and weaknesses or why I’d be a good fit at Karyn’s.

“Well, with my years of customer service experience, I’ve become quite adept at--“ I paused because Barbara had given me a look. She tilted her chin up and looked down her nose at me with squinted eyes and a slight smile. It was a look that said I’ve got you all figured out.

“What’s your birthday sweetie?” she interrupted and asked it as if she already knew the answer. She was the type of woman who referred to everyone as sweetie or hun. I found it obnoxious but thought it best to keep to myself on a job interview.

“Um… November 26th,” I replied, slightly confused about the question’s significance.

“Hmm… Sagittarius,” Barbara replied with a knowing nod. I needed to hear no more to know that Karyn’s and Ann did not a good match make. I refused to work at an establishment that rated my performance or competence based on whether Mars was in retrograde. I spent the rest of the interview giving half-ass answers with no intent to return. To my surprise though, Karyn’s wanted me to return. When they called to invite me to a second interview, I kindly told them the pay wasn’t what I was looking for and thanked them for the opportunity. They must have been itching for a Sagittarius on staff because they offered me a pay raise on the spot and insisted I come back for a second interview.

In the spirit of open-mindedness, I begrudgingly showed up for my second interview to meet with Karyn. She was itsy bitsy with long black hair and tanned skin and appeared to be in her sixties. She looked nothing like the dozens of pictures of her posted throughout the spa that were evidently taken 30 years prior. She walked with an air of confidence as she proudly showed me around her spa. From colonoscopies to ear candling to raw food— Karyn’s offered it all.

As she brought me upstairs, she paused to stop at a fluffy armchair paired with a large strobe light. She leaned in close and whispered something to what I thought to be a small child in the chair. “It’s ok baby, just relax. That’s right, just relax right here,” she cooed.

“Poor thing,” she turned to me, “she’s thirteen and nearly blind.” How terrible, I thought. However, as I rounded the corner and peered over the chair, I saw not a child, but a cat. Fair enough, I reasoned, some people have a close bond with pets. Who am I to judge? I was more concerned with the strange strobe light flashing continuously at the chair. Almost sensing my confusion, Karyn explained the light, “It’s light therapy. It cures blindness,” she said proudly. Unfortunately, this only made me more confused.

She then led the way towards her office, making various stops along the way to explain a therapy or service that was offered at the spa. Forget massages or facials, apparently Karyn developed a pedicure tub that cures arthritis. Now, I had my doubts about the place before the interview even started, and with this light therapy and pedicure business, I was sure I had a one way ticket to Crazy-Town. Ironically, I was concerned with seeming weird myself and that’s what stopped me from leaving mid-interview. Instead, I followed Karyn around and feigned interest.

We then approached what appeared to be a large, white, plastic coffin-shaped cubical that was standing upright. I no longer remember the name of the machine but Karyn informed of its purpose.

“This has been known to cure 10,000 cases of AIDS and cancer,” she remarked surprisingly casually. I thought the coffin shape a strange choice for a machine with such remarkable powers, but that wasn’t the only flaw that came to mind. I thought it quite selfish of Karyn to keep this technological miracle to herself. Surely, there were people across the world who would have appreciated a head’s up about the cure to cancer. And isn’t there some talk about wanting to cure AIDS too? At the very least I’m sure she would have been handsomely rewarded for her plastic coffin.

Still, I raised my eyebrows and slightly tilted my head as if to say Wow, you don’t say… all the while planning an escape route in my head. What’s strange is that the plastic coffin didn’t frighten me as much as the prospect of having to turn down an offer of employment. Always a people pleaser, I was once dangerously close to purchasing a timeshare simply because I was so uncomfortable with the pressure of saying no. So, I imagined myself answering questions about colonoscopies and tending to the blind cat simply because I wanted to avoid what was sure to be an awkward conversation.


She then led me into her office and motioned for me to take a seat across from her. The moment I sat down we were joined by several more of her furry friends who apparently were free to roam the spa as they pleased. She continued to conduct the interview as I sat with two dogs on my lap, one of them a poodle the size of a small pony.


"I've been on a raw food diet for 30 years. I'm 63 years old," she boasted. Her tone suggested I was supposed to be impressed with her age so I played along. However, she absolutely looked to be in her sixties in my opinion. The remainder of the interview continued in this fashion. She would spew a slue of facts about herself that she found particularly impressive.

"I've been on the Oprah Show," she said. I smiled and nodded.


"I'm sending a pilot to the Food Network," she beamed. I smiled and nodded.


"I haven't had allergies for more than 15 years," she bragged. I smiled and nodded.


The one thing we didn't discuss in the interview were my qualifications for the job. However, something told me that this wasn't the type of establishment that was interested in facts and statistics. As the moments crawled by and I began tuning out Karyn's incessant talking, I tried to reason with myself into accepting the job. Expand your horizons Ann! A colonoscopy sounds like fun! Who doesn't love a good poodle? I was determined to convince myself into taking a risk. Forever a creature of habit, I wanted to make good on my New Year's resolution of becoming a 'new me.' So when Karyn said I'd make a great addition to the team, I smiled and nodded. I shook her hand and the deal was done. Barbara would call with details.

As I said goodbye and she showed me out of her office, she casually added, "Oh, and there's no meat allowed on the premises." Show me a pedicure that helps arthritis and I'll bite. A coffin that cures AIDS? Sure! But "no meat on the premises"? You mean I can't bring a turkey sandwich to lunch? A girl's gotta draw the line somewhere. So I smiled and nodded and never looked back.

So, after an experience like Karyn's, you can understand my hesitation towards the more unconventional beliefs of astrology and even dream dictionaries. But the spiders twice in one week irked me so I gave it a go. As it turns out, while being a symbol of femininity, spiders are also a symbol of "creativity due to the intricate webs they spin," according to dreammoods.com. OK, so what about the lizards? Apparently, those too symbolize "emerging creativity, renewal, and revitalization." With all the new bloginess lately and the millions of ideas I've got swirling around in my head but don't know how to put into action, perhaps I'm just someone who recently graduated college and is confused about what to do with her life but is itching to do something, ANYTHING, creative and imaginative. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Ok, so maybe I'll be a bit more open from now on to astrology and even Medium. But you still can't take away my turkey sandwich.