(no subject)
So here it is Tuesday, when I wanted to have finished chapter five; alas, it is not even begun. I was engrossed in a book all week, then had to switch files to pepper details and notes in another story before I forgot. I have much progress to make today.
Also, I have a phobia regarding ants. I dislike small insects far more than large ones, but ants reign in my *yeaugh! shiver* reflex. They give me panic attacks. Yes, I was covered in ants as a child.
So last night? Ants. Jeff and I were watching television on the sofa when I noticed an insect on my arm. I promptly flicked it off...then realized it was an ant. It was the second one I had seen in three days. I looked around with unease. On the wall directly behind my head, descending from the ceiling, marched a line of ants.
Jeff sprayed with the bug spray and the bug goop. He sprayed the wall, he sprayed behind the sofa, he sprayed underneath the sofa when I noticed the rotten little things running out from beneath it. I haven't seen any new ones, but I can't sit on the sofa. I just can't. What if there are some ON the sofa, and I can't see because the sofa is dark and the ants are tiny?
I thought I was done with this. No, I expected another attack, but I had hoped against it. The spiders were bad enough. They were in EVERYTHING, and I'm sure a few of my boxes still hide them. Enormous ghastly arachnids, small ones with pink shells...they were everywhere when Jeff and I got here. I had an allergic reaction to the bite one gave me in bed at night. But I killed the majority of them systematically, with bug spray and bug goop and the vacuum and my angry stomping shoe. And I sprayed around the whole place every few months to guard against their return.
Then there was the incident that found me standing barefoot in a wash of maggots. Where did they come from? I don't know. But I screamed like someone was trying to severe my arm. Jeff had to deal with that one; I was traumatized. Later there were flies, and they always went to the one window that does not open.
But winter and the freezing cold lulled me into a false security, I suppose. Now that the weather is warm, the crawly things are out in force...and the windows are not secure. The one over the sink is wide open to the elements. Every other day there's some new beetle dead in the dish water. But that's across the house from the bed. They can stay over there.
The ants, and the little flying things we have now, are too close.
In my paranoia last night I checked the wall the head of the bed is pressed against. No ants, thank goodness. But a little speck I had taken for wall gunk as long as I can remember, sprouted legs and attempted to evade my approaching nose. A tiny spider.
Has Gizmo been scratching from dry skin, or bugs? I will need to bathe the kitty.
I hate not feeling safe. It's different with the spiders because I'm aware they are present, and I'm not surprised when I see one. But a line of ants...it's too much, even while I know I'm being stupid.
Also, I have a phobia regarding ants. I dislike small insects far more than large ones, but ants reign in my *yeaugh! shiver* reflex. They give me panic attacks. Yes, I was covered in ants as a child.
So last night? Ants. Jeff and I were watching television on the sofa when I noticed an insect on my arm. I promptly flicked it off...then realized it was an ant. It was the second one I had seen in three days. I looked around with unease. On the wall directly behind my head, descending from the ceiling, marched a line of ants.
Jeff sprayed with the bug spray and the bug goop. He sprayed the wall, he sprayed behind the sofa, he sprayed underneath the sofa when I noticed the rotten little things running out from beneath it. I haven't seen any new ones, but I can't sit on the sofa. I just can't. What if there are some ON the sofa, and I can't see because the sofa is dark and the ants are tiny?
I thought I was done with this. No, I expected another attack, but I had hoped against it. The spiders were bad enough. They were in EVERYTHING, and I'm sure a few of my boxes still hide them. Enormous ghastly arachnids, small ones with pink shells...they were everywhere when Jeff and I got here. I had an allergic reaction to the bite one gave me in bed at night. But I killed the majority of them systematically, with bug spray and bug goop and the vacuum and my angry stomping shoe. And I sprayed around the whole place every few months to guard against their return.
Then there was the incident that found me standing barefoot in a wash of maggots. Where did they come from? I don't know. But I screamed like someone was trying to severe my arm. Jeff had to deal with that one; I was traumatized. Later there were flies, and they always went to the one window that does not open.
But winter and the freezing cold lulled me into a false security, I suppose. Now that the weather is warm, the crawly things are out in force...and the windows are not secure. The one over the sink is wide open to the elements. Every other day there's some new beetle dead in the dish water. But that's across the house from the bed. They can stay over there.
The ants, and the little flying things we have now, are too close.
In my paranoia last night I checked the wall the head of the bed is pressed against. No ants, thank goodness. But a little speck I had taken for wall gunk as long as I can remember, sprouted legs and attempted to evade my approaching nose. A tiny spider.
Has Gizmo been scratching from dry skin, or bugs? I will need to bathe the kitty.
I hate not feeling safe. It's different with the spiders because I'm aware they are present, and I'm not surprised when I see one. But a line of ants...it's too much, even while I know I'm being stupid.