If I Die

If I die before the summer ends, I want you all to know it was the spiders.
I've been waging a war on spiders ever since I can remember finding one crawling not innocently across my bed as a child. The experience traumatized me to my core, and I began to realize that my house was surrounded by such monstrosities.
I picked my battles wisely, mercifully attacking only if provoked (how dare a spider build a web between a tree and our house?), but ruthlessly.

Some will argue that cockroaches present a much greater threat to society and to their mental health, and for some that may be true.
I too have been ambushed by the occasional guerrilla fighter, but as a whole, they don't cause much trouble for me nor my household.
Perhaps my reputation as Spider Slayer precedes me...

In the past month, I have slain no fewer than half a dozen spiders, one of whom I spared at first, but I don't take kindly to an eight eyed, eight legged Norman Bates sharing a shower with me. My killing spree has reached across many species, making my arachnid enemies numerous.

Just know that if I die, it was the spiders.
Donate all funds to the frogs.