So turns out the third plague wasn't boils or diseased livestock. Nope, it was thirty-six straight hours of snow, culminating in me getting my car stuck in the middle of a street in West Park. As I feverishly tried to shovel myself out, an old man ambled up. Look at this, I thought! Seventy-something and he wants to give me a hand. How sweet.
Or...not. Good Elderly Samaritan just stood there with his arms crossed and watched me dig, helpfully reminding me to "keep shoveling" if I paused to catch my breath. Gee, thanks, you old asshole. I should bring you to the gym with me (okay, I don't actually belong to a gym...I personally don't believe in cults.)
My friends actually had to push me to the end of street and into traffic. That was fun--especially the part where my life flashed before my eyes. Still, I fared a lot better than a lot of other drivers, so I shouldn't really complain (I shouldn't, but why have a blog if you're not going to be all self-important and whiny?)
In other news, the ants are back and boy, are they pissed! Apparently a broom and a dust pan isn't effective pest control. And while squishing them one by one is effective, I think I'm finally outnumbered. So I bought those ugly-ass ant traps...you know, the ones that are trying desperately not to look like ant traps? They are seriously the most unattractive things I've had on my floor since I told my brother he couldn't hang up his deer head and he left it lying around for months in protest. I suppose the only thing uglier than the traps is the huge band of ants doing the "script Ohio" in my foyer.
Anyway, I'm going to run home and inspect the carnage. These traps better do something other than making my entryway look like a truck stop bathroom
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