i hate ants

so today i spent several hours tearing apart my room to get rid off anything that could be construed as ant food. for context, it's not like my room is filthy. there aren't crumbs on the floor or a mountain of laundry or old dishes festering in forgotten corners. i clean like once a week. and i did laundry last weekend. and most of my room consists of bare hardwood floor.

well for the last week, i've had a steadily increasing ant problem localized in my bedroom. until today, i'd just been killing or vacuuming them up when i saw one. (side note: it's really hard to kill ants with three-ply tissues. another reason why they shouldn't exist. the tissues, not the ants.) but they're just ants, what are they really capable of?

i underestimated them. the last 24 hours have changed the stakes. last night they bit my leg while i slept which was surprisingly irritating considering they're like a centimeter long. this pissed me off, but was not in and of itself that big of a deal. but what do a find this morning but a swarm of ants covering a pair of dirty underwear. they actually ate through the crotch. that's just beyond disgusting. plus, i liked that pair. i mean, they weren't my favorite pair, but they were still A team. or at the very least, high ranking B team.

this means war. but they're clever little bastards. i think they're coming out from under the floorboard next to my closet. i sprayed some chemicals back there, which seems to have stopped them for now. fucking bastards. on the up side, my room is sparkling.

all through this ordeal i keep thinking of that paula poundstone bit about ants. you know the one i'm talking about? good, because i can't find anything about it online.