I Think I've Been Here Before

Ok, let's be honest. Glitter isn't my first blog. It's not even my second. I think it's my fifth. Or maybe sixth, if you count Myspace. Seventh, if you count Facebook.

I don't have commitment issues. I just like to keep things separate.

I also like not having ants in my bathroom, not having a suitemate who believes it her sole duty to feed those ants by dropping crumbs like fairy dust everywhere she goes, and not having giant gaping holes in my wall.

I take what I can get. I can get as much blogging space as I want. There are apparently drawbacks to using Blogger, but in the five years I've been keeping blogs with it, they haven't been a real issue for me.

Last night, I came back after a riveting adventure of sitting and ordering books off my laptop from my boyfriend's place only to find small black dots moving along at a steady pace on the floor of the bathroom I share with my suitemate (and her boyfriend, who technically lives down the hall, but for all purposes never sleeps in his own room).  I was so freaked out that by the time I had run back into my own room and shut the door firmly behind me, I had convinced myself that the bathroom was overrun by ants.

I sent in an electronic request to maintenance, pest division, to come look at it first thing in the morning, and a pity party email to my RA, whom I've only seen twice in person but is pretty damn cool as far as I'm concerned. My RA consoled me and offered me a sleeping bag and floorspace, but I was too proud to leave my room to the mercy of the legion of ants holding the bathroom hostage. There's only a slight barrier between the bathroom and my bedroom, and I would be a fool not to fortify my defenses.

Armed with nothing more than a bottle of 100% tea tree oil (nature's most omnipotent natural remedy, to hear some speak of it) and a box of 200 ct. cotton buds (q-tips for those of us who don't believe our packaging), I dabbed, swiped, and dribbled the potent smelling stuff all over the threshold of the doorway, killing any ants that came into my room on sight.

I kept this up, re-applying and swabbing and stabbing with q-tips, for the better part of six hours before admitting to myself, sometime around 1:30 AM, that I would have to sleep for something like seven hours, and that I couldn't expect myself to catch every unlucky ant to brave the tea tree oil barrier while I was catching some shut-eye.

Little did I know, the morning had more unpleasant surprises to spring.