I’m walking around my living room. Wait, no, I’m not. I’m vacuuming and pushing the stupid vacuum around the living room.
Earlier, I had sprayed like eleventhousandmillion ants to death with my (super okay to use around pets and kids) vinegar and lemon degreaser and cleaner.
Quick sidenote: I have not written a post on my homemade vinegar and lemon cleaner. I don’t know why. Here’s a quick rundown.
- Put lemon peels in jar.
- Pour vinegar on it.
- Leave it alone for a couple weeks. Or shake it once in a while if you remember. Whatever. It’s not your new bff, it doesn’t need to hear from you on the regular.
- Cut it in half with water in a rinsed out spray bottle or some other kind of non-Ball-jar dispenser and use it everywhere.
This is what my stove looked like after using it. I’m lazy and I hate cleaning and for some reason I hate my stove (probably because it’s scratched in back and I think it’s doing that just to make me angry because we never use that burner so WTF, stove?) so I used almost zero elbow grease. It doesn’t deserve my effort. Or love.
But even with our dysfunctional relationship, my stove looked like this. I would have never guessed. It also kills ants.
So I was vacuuming up dead ants after I’d sprayed them all and their little dead carcases were lying on the floor waiting for me to do something with them and I guess in the process of vacuuming one semi-live ant went rogue because ten minutes later I’m sitting down pondering the universe and not wanting to wrap the cord up behind the vacuum because I hate it and it dawns on me that I have a hair tickling my chest.
Not the sexy times part of my chest, the “where my collarbone would be but it’s covered by a layer of fat” part. I go to wipe away the hair and TADUM! there’s an ant, so I kill it by spreading it all the hell over my body (could have been sexy, almost, under non-insect circumstances) and then I jump up and down because that will totally help and I sit back down and grumble and complain at the back of the vacuum as I wrap the cord back up.
That’s when I’m sure I feel another ant on my chest. I go to wipe it away and there wasn’t one.
Then I was pretty much completely overtaken by the feeling of freaking bugs all over my body and I was totally skeeved out and it was gross and traumatic and I knew it wasn’t real but that didn’t help and then I realized this is what my one friend described to me as her acid flashback and then I was REALLY mad because I’ve never done acid and now I’m getting the bad after effects without any of the “don’t look in the mirror or your face will melt and you will be forever traumatized” fun stuff.
So f acid and f flashbacks and f ants.
I’m collecting our used coffee grounds and my husband is going to sprinkle them around the house. He says it’s scientific or whatever but I’m ready to throw every organic bone in my body out the window and buy some damn bug spray. So my grandkids will look like three-eyed fish from the Simpsons..we’ll call it an evolutionary jump and all be super thrilled at making the new super-species. Right?
I hate ants.