Usage Question: How Ironic?

Warning: this post contains an allusion to the act of human defecation disguised in fairy tale language.

It may be that the reason for my trouble sleeping tonight is traceable to the approximately three-quarters of a pint (three cups, one spoon, no bowl) of Ben & Jerry's ice cream I ate almost immediately before going to bed. This would explain both my physical discomfort (stemming from the tremendous intake of sugar and fat) and my mental unrest (stemming from my vast knowledge of nutrition and the depths to which I loathe myself).

Consequently or not, I recently had to go to the bathroom, and it was an unsatisfactory experience, beginning with my knowledge that I had earlier observed a spider scurry across the bathroom floor and under the plunger. At the time I considered turning the spider's shelter into an instrument of spider death, however, though they often forget, I am more afraid of spiders than they are of me and will usually run away unless cornered. Consequently for sure, I opted to use another bathroom for my impending misadventure.

Sparing you the gory details, I huffed and I puffed and I clogged the toilet. Thus came an end to my truce with the plunger spider.