MY biggest fear, without a shadow of a doubt, is anything that could be classed as a 'creepy-crawly'.

If it creeps or it crawls (or for that matter, flies, slithers, jumps or scuttles) it isn't welcome within 100 yards of me - and it is one of life's biggest disappointments that restraining orders can't be applied to moths.

The worst thing is that all creepy-crawlies seem to seek my company and over the years several small (but scary) creatures have shown great persistence when it comes to making a life for themselves in my vicinity.

I feel like I'm being targeted.

In a particularly delightful student flat I once lived in, there were always slugs in the bathroom.

My housemate, ever practical, decided the best way to cope was to befriend them all - she named them, sang to them and I once caught her reading them part of her dissertation.

But I opted for more of an avoidance tactic, and joined the gym so I could shower there instead.

In a house I lived in a few years ago I kept finding frogs in the bedroom.

I lived in fear of needing the loo in the night because I could never be sure there wouldn't be one lurking slimily underfoot (obviously I also didn't want to hurt the frog - I'm not completely heartless).

Daddy long legs also make a beeline for me and the worst part is they have no concept of personal space.

They flutter and fly anywhere they please, whether it's the window, the light fitting or my face.

But the latest infestation is a step too far, because I can't even identify what it is.

A long, thin, reddish-brown crawling thing keeps appearing in my bathroom and despite frantic Google searches, I can't work out how to get rid of it.

My poor husband has suddenly found his evenings punctuated by shrieks from upstairs.

"Just put it outside," he calls upstairs wearily.

The shrieking goes up an octave: "I can't! It won't stop wriggling! Come quickly - and bring a glass and envelope!"

I need answers - and fast. Otherwise I might be forced to move house.