I will never be accused of being "a good soldier" when it comes to being sick. I'm sick. Hate it. Sick sucks. It's not natural. Bet I'm even gonna die or something. That's how miserable I am.
And OF COURSE, Conchita, my imaginary maid, is like....totally ignoring the dust bunnies playing tag under my bed with the rolling tumbleweeds of dog hair. I swear, SWEAR...some day I'm gonna fire that bitch and get a maid that really exists. Imaginary maids are worthless! She's no better than my imaginary masseuse, Sven.
Sound grim so far? Well, IT'S WORSE!
Bug man came yesterday to have a look at my ant problem in the bathroom. Course I had to get my sorry ass outa the bed to let him in cause....who wants to lay in bed with bug man walking around? Soon as he saw the ant carcasses he says, "This is worse than I thought. I'll be right back. I have to get my drill."
"Drill? Whatdoya' mean, drill?"
"They're in your walls," he called back over his shoulder.
"Oh well, that's just great! That's just dandy!" I muttered to myself cause NOBODY else was around but the ants.
Sure enough, he drilled holes all over the bottom of each and every wall in the bathroom and then drilled holes in my bedroom closet.
"bbbbb...but....I don't have ants in the closet," I protested.
"Good chance they're in the wall behind your shower or the bathtub. I can't drill into the shower wall. This is the only way. Might work. Might not. If it doesn't, we're gonna have to call a contractor. Have that shower torn out."
"SAY WHAT???? nuh UGH! whyyyyyy?"
"They'll eat your foundation. Don't wanna end up in the basement when you're takin' bath, do ya?"
"The basement isn't under here. It's the crawl space, " I snapped back, sarcastically. Instantly realizing what an idiot I sounded like. The fever, obviously is cooking my brains.
"You may start to see increased activity," he continued, undaunted. "24 hours or so, you may even see a hoard coming out of those holes. That's ok. We're flushing them out. Long as they act drunk. Not too energetic."
"So...what am I supposed to do? Give 'em a friggin breathalyser? How do tell if an ant is drunk?"
"They'll stumble around. Be lethargic."
So here I sit now, fever, throbbing head, ringing ears, on the lookout for a bunch of drunk ants.
And you can bet your butt cheeks, that like Quinn, from Jaws....I'm gonna find em. I'm gonna find em...and I'm gonna kill em. No way I'm sittin' my ass in the crawlspace to take a bath!
Labels: bitch, drunks, maid, masseuse, murder