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Die, ants! Die!
So, half hour ago a pest control guy came into our apartment to spray the walls and floors to get rid of the ants. I didn't know he was coming, one of my roommates was gone, and the other one dead asleep, and I didn't hear him knock on the door. But because it's an apartment and he was hired by the leasing office, he had a key and came right in, calling down the hallway to see if anyone was home. Totally confused as to what was going on I tumbled out of bed and into the hallway, still in my pajamas--my purple Grumpy pajamas and flimsy green camisole that wasn't quite laying on me properly.
It was a little awkward. My roommate finally came out of her room, and her shirt was kinda see through, and we were both missing our glasses and squinting a whole lot.
I'm sure the guy thought we were nuts. Anyway, he started spraying, we both disappeared into our rooms to put on sweatshirts, and now the whole apartment smells like bug killer, which is apparently okay for us to be around and breathe, but I still can't help imagining me inhaling poison with every breath.
But at least there's no more ants. Just, you know, a lot of ant corpses in the walls.
It was a little awkward. My roommate finally came out of her room, and her shirt was kinda see through, and we were both missing our glasses and squinting a whole lot.
I'm sure the guy thought we were nuts. Anyway, he started spraying, we both disappeared into our rooms to put on sweatshirts, and now the whole apartment smells like bug killer, which is apparently okay for us to be around and breathe, but I still can't help imagining me inhaling poison with every breath.
But at least there's no more ants. Just, you know, a lot of ant corpses in the walls.