(no subject)

Lat time I missed a day's posting, someone panicked. I may have time and energy to write a proper blogpost later and I may not, but, either way, take this as a Granny Weatherwax sign pointing out in clear English that I aten't dead.

(no subject)

I have a bit of a problem with life imitating art. Lots of bits of problem, actually. Each and every one of these bits of problems is in the shape of an ant.

There were ant trails. When those trails passed beyond my loungeroom and kitchen last week, I was happy. "End of ant season," I thought, and started to rejoice.

Alas, the ants are back. The ants act disturbingly differently this time round. They climb all over my friends and they play mind games on me. This is bad enough. Starting today, however, I keep finding little piles of immolated ants. I found one in the rice cooker and had to wash them out before I made myself dinner.

I hope they died happy.

If the remaining ants start writing me messages on the wall, I shall put my unit up for sale and move to Antarctica. The ants won't find me there.