I have ants. It’s 30 degrees outside and I have ants.
The reason I bring up the temperature is because I feel like ants are a summer problem, not a winter problem. Also, the temperature just might be the reason that the ants I do have, are so unorganized.
You see, I didn’t wake up one morning to find a line of ants marching across my kitchen floor to a few Cheerios that had fallen out of the box. If I had, I wouldn’t be wasting my time writing about ants. You can trace a line of ants back to their origin and fight the good fight there; confident that will be a non-issue the following morning.
I woke up to three ants in my bathroom. One by the laundry basket, one by the sink, the other crawling up the wall. Where the hell did they come from? No idea. I disposed of said ants and thought, well, that was weird.
Later on in the day, I found three in the bedroom. Again, no rhyme or reason for them. Where did they come from? No food in the room. One was crawling across the floor, one was by the molding and the other making its way up a bookshelf. Really? I disposed of them a little frustrated.
Next morning, five ants in the bathroom again. Again, not together, all randomly spread throughout the bathroom as if they were on some five ant reconnaissance mission. I looked all around; where the hell were these fuckers coming from? I disposed of them, this time spraying vinegar along all the baseboards in the bathroom.
When the scouts didn’t check back in, others replaced them and three more were sent into my bedroom, then my bathroom. I disposed of the ants and yelled, ‘you’ll all die if you keep coming into my house. Stay away!’ But that didn’t work. The next morning, I saw three more. My frustration grew as I continued to find between two and five ants in my bathroom and bedroom at least once a day for about a week. I would scream ‘where are you coming from?’ and threaten ‘I’m going to win! You can’t hide forever’.
Then I started to itch. Not because I had gotten bit or anything, but because I watched those crawly little sneaks and I couldn’t help it. My head suddenly itched, my right arm, my leg. Power of visualization, watching something with all those legs creeping around and it makes your skin itch.
You are feeling a little itchy right now, aren’t you?
Perhaps it was something I had done earlier in my life I was now paying for, I thought. These fucking ants were making me crazy. I couldn’t figure out where they were coming from. They just…appeared. Maybe they were trying to slowly drive me insane because I had killed their cousins in a previous summer.
For two days I found only one ant and thought perhaps my homemade ‘ant-be-gone’ formula was working; or perhaps they had finally gotten the message. Nothing good was here for them.
Then, I woke up this morning to two ants on the bathroom counter. I don’t know where they are coming from; I don’t know how to fight something that has no origin. And more worrisome, isn’t this how all those Alien and Predator movies start?! With small, unassuming scouts who could regenerate; whose sole purpose was to drive the human race crazy until they could take over!