I freaking hate ants. I'm sorry, I know it's Earth Day in a week and we should love all of Mother Nature's creatures or whatever, but ants do not deserve to live. I came home tonight, and my cat's food bowl was covered in ants because my cat had left a crumb of food behind. What the F?! Where do these suckers come from? I live on the third floor, for crissake. Are they that determined to invade my apartment that they manage to bypass the two floors below me? You know, I always forget how much I am creeped out by ants, until all of a sudden I have the entire cast of A Bug's Life running around my kitchen.
Oh my God, I just remembered something: back in 5th or 6th grade, I read this book of scary stories or urban myths or something. The story that freaked me out the most was about a boy who tried to kill all the ants in his ant farm, and that night, as he was sleeping, the ants ATE HIM. He woke up with ants crawling in his mouth and covering his eyes and creepy shit like that. That is just not right. Do you see now why I cannot handle ants in my apartment? Tomorrow, I'm running to the nearest ACME and buying out their supply on ant traps. I'm seriously going Terminator on their asses.
On a happier note, after a really nice walk down by the river, my friend gifted me with a mango today. So I guess the day wasn't a total bust.
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