What lurks beneath my bed is not a monster, but a fat, juicy lobster, bathing in melted butter—yet I am annoyed by and terrified of it. Some have mocked my worries because lobsters haven’t really hurt me (yet), but my fear/frustration of/with crustaceans is far beyond the realm of logic.

We are not haunted by something because we dislike the consequences of it; if we were, our nightmares would be about real monsters like student loan debt and global warming, not spiders and killer clowns. Therefore, no matter how petty and unrealistic you call my kabourophobia, that won’t make me less scared; it will only make me feel more foolish.

Everyone has their own special lobsters under their bed, and for those of us who do have monsters, I understand how these lobsters may seem ridiculous. However, we need to remember that we all think our silly lobsters mean the world, so we must respect each other’s lobsters, and recognize how many of our monsters are just seafood in disguise. We also need to learn to deal with our lobsters to help fight another person’s monster; even if it isn’t attacking us at the moment, its next victim could very well start with a “y” and end with an “ou.”

When I feel like I have nothing to grip to but my lobsters, that makes me thankful that I don’t have any monsters attacking right now. This fires me up to think of how I can creatively tackle my lobsters, because no matter how intimidating they are, I am up for the challenge.

What are movies but activations of our psyche? What are muffins but unfrosted cupcakes occasionally with blueberries inside?