Life of Wry

When ants invade….

I’m tellin’ ya: I’m outa patience on this ant thing. Out of patience, unamused, so over it, at my wits end.

The rains in the last few days have brought the ants back with a vengeance.. they’re in all their old haunts, and have discovered a few new ones. I’m overwhelmed, bordering on despair, and very tired of our soapy water solution (which drowns the ants but doesn’t eliminate them). I swore, yelled and said some very nasty things to the ants in the laundry room tonight, then I marched into Jim’s office and made my petulant little announcement that I’m not going to clean them up anymore. I’m done being nice to the ant race, I want poison in the form of a professional service that will come out and take care of my problem in exchange for money, and at the expense of the environment and animalkind. I don’t care anymore. Jim–Mr Sensible, Mr This Doesn’t Bother Me, Mr Patience for all things–assures me they will go away when Northern California finally dries up, and in the meantime, he’ll reposition the environmentally-approved, colony-killer pods we spent a lot of money on (which should–but don’t seem to–work) to some more strategic and, importantly, dry locations around our perimeter, including one at the front door. Maybe this time, it’ll work! It’s been my observation, however, that the ants don’t come in through doors and windows. They simply, mysteriously, materialize in random places, seemingly through walls and through floors.

Actually, I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. I’m too frustrated. I’m going to bed and letting the ants do their ant thing while we sleep in a so-far untouched-by-ants bedroom. I just don’t have a blog in me.

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So, instead, how about some cranky humor? This has nothing whatsoever to do with ants, but it kind of checks off the cranky box!

Good night!