I hate ants with the fiery passion of a thousand suns

Really, I don’t care for them at all. I mean, WTF? I’m getting ready to go to work and I happen to look down and notice a swarm of at least hundreds, probably thousands, of ants in the kitchen sink…or crawling all over the bathtub ledge…or on my bedroom floor…or, in today’s case, in a massive trail from the corner of the room, across the floor, and into and onto the sofa, where I’d left an unopened bag of cat food, still in the plastic bag from the store, and my ex-roommate’s cat (who still lives here) apparently tore it open. So my other ex-roommate quickly sprayed their entry point, then I had to throw away a ten-dollar bag of cat food and spray again just to make sure, and now I get to freak out about it all night and hope they’re gone by the time I get home.

I really, really hate ants.

In good news, I was approved for the apartment I applied for yesterday, which means I don’t have to worry about that any more. And I get to move out in another week and a half. I just hope I’m not eaten by ants before then.

I really hate apartment-hunting in L.A.

Hello there. For anyone who’s wondering why I haven’t written anything lately, the answer is that I’ve been pretty busy. Not fun busy, of course. More annoyingly busy. Here’s the deal: my landlord apparently hasn’t been paying his mortgage, so the house I live in is getting foreclosed on. It was supposed to go up for auction this Monday, but got pushed back a month. Meanwhile, the landlord gave me and my roommate until the end of July to get out, while carefully not mentioning anything about a foreclosure and simply saying that he’s been having financial issues. As you can see, this is not a guy who’s up front with us, and was in fact lying about the foreclosure notices we’d been getting in the mail for several months, telling us they were nothing to worry about. So you can understand my reluctance to give him any more money (i.e. July rent). Thus, I am trying to find a place to move as soon as possible. I don’t have high hopes that I’ll get my deposit back, but I hope that I might guilt trip him into it, as I’ve been a good tenant and he has no reason at all to keep the money, since he’s certainly not going to be putting any more money into a house he’s losing. And if that doesn’t work, at least I can give him a piece of my mind about it, because, like I’ve said all along, someone who drives a hummer can’t complain to me about money issues and expect to get any sympathy. So until I find a new place and get this all settled and sorted, I’m probably not going to have a lot of spare time or energy to do a lot of the things I normally do, like write. I’ve been pursuing various options, but so far haven’t found anything for sure. There’s one I’m considering now, but the place won’t be vacated until next Tuesday or so, but hopefully after that I’ll be able to look at it and see whether I want it or not.

Meanwhile, Lysander is attempting to nurse on my arm.

…Great. Now my sleeve is all soggy with kitten drool.