Arachnophobia
I've gotten pretty good at the "peeing in the middle of the night" routine. I can get out of bed, walk to the bathroom, close the door, pee, wipe, wash hands, flush... without turning the lights on and without, for the most part, opening my eyes. I occasionally crack one eyelid to check and see where the toilet paper is, but other than that, I barely need to break out of r.e.m. mode.

However, last night, I was mid-pee, when I remembered that there had been a spider in the bathroom. My husband was all "don't kill it -- spiders eat other bugs." So I left it alone, even though it really creeped me out to be sharing a private moment with an eight-legged freak. As long as I could see it on the wall, I knew it wasn't, for instance, about to drop onto my head.

Not true in the middle of the night in the dark.

I mean, it could be anywhere. It could be on the toilet seat. On the toilet handle. On the light switch. It could be inches away from my face.

So I did what any rational human being would do. I didn't flush, and I didn't -- gasp -- wash my hands, and very cautiously opened the door to get out and go back to bed.