July 21st, 2006



Got up this morning and found them in their dozens in kitchen and dining room. Squashed 'em, but they keep coming. They seem to have given up the bathroom as a lost cause, bleach-soaked as it is, and are moving on to less smelly pastures. Like our kitchen. ARGH.

Called manager again. Spent an hour this morning doing more unpleasant research. Am now fairly confident I could make ant poison, and know what kind to buy, but godsdamnit, I don't want to pay for it. Manager, unfortunately, won't be home 'til afternoon. Gah. *ick, ick, ick*

The internets say there are probably at least 50,000 of them. *shudder*

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I'm getting that greenhouse feeling...

...y'know, when you walk into one and are hit with a wall of humidity?

In my head it's most like the last time I was at the Montreal Biodome. *whap*, instant sauna. Weird thing is, it's not even that unbearably hot. Just... uck. Moist.

Stupid rainforest. *makes face*

Have sprayed all possible entry points with a mix of salt and vinegar, as they seemed to be growing bolder despite the bleach. House now smells of chips, but I can live with that, as we haven't seen an ant in hours. Will spray again before bed, and again in the morning. Called building manager again. Still nothing. Also, thorough cleaning of bathroom and kitchen tonight, with scrub-brushes and, you guessed it, more bleach. Yuck.

I hate summer.

Dexcon in one week. Still need shoes for formal dress. Ack. Will have to go tomorrow.

Oh, damnit, INVENTORY tomorrow. Ugh.
short people

I'm not on meth. I'm just determined.

Haven't seen any ants for a few hours, except the three or four driven out into the harsh light of day by the cleaning of the bathroom. Which has heaped yet more evidence onto the growing pile that proves that Mr. Evicted-From-This-Apartment is too repulsive to live.

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Seriously. People are disgusting.

The ants, BTW, are swarming the whole city. They're *everywhere*. It's like a plague. A plague of clumsy winged ants. EW.

Oh, my. Look at the time. I am up *much* too late. And I'm all sticky from the weather and the cleaning. We're back in that season where I'm taking cold showers for disappointingly uninteresting reasons. :(

(I hate summer.)

EDIT: The whole house smells of bleach and vinegar (fortunately neither of which are mixing in adequate amounts to kill us as we sleep). The living room smells of chips, and the bathroom of bleach (which makes sense, as the tile grouting is now steeped in it, and will, gods willing, remain steeped in it). This all culminated in psychological triggers calling up associations with swimming pools, specifically the Maple Ridge Leisure Centre, gigantic ceiling-Smarties, and artificial waterfalls. After I got out of my shower I felt, emotionally, *exactly* the way I do after a good, exhausting swim. Which is a rather nice note on which to go to sleep, as mostly I pass out afterward. Speaking of which... *yawn* I should go swimming soon. It's been years. *repeat yawn*