They have invaded my home, my peace of mind, and even my COMPUTER.
Those nastly little bugs. I feel them crawling on me even when they are not. (And just as I wrote that sentence, a FLYING ant landed on my arm. They've sprouted wings. Wings are cute on faeries, NOT ANTS.)
Today I sprayed the entire perimeter of my house. I have planted poison bait along their trails. Yet, they still found my pantry. So, I sealed all the loose items in my pantry and wiped down all my shelves. This is war. Seriously.
The worse part. Remember this? Well, apparently there are still traces of that Italian Ice in my computer (lemon-flavored (very important that you know that)) because they won't leave my computer alone. Ewe gross. I have so much ant-anger in my heart right now. I can't even write without ANTS.
If I was not so mad right now, I'd think of a very clever analogy about ants and writing. But I'm mad and drained of wit. You must think of one for me.
What? Three posts in four days? Very unlike me, I know.