The little bastards are everywhere. You hear me?! EVERYWHERE.
I dunno though . . . a part of me wants to just give up, and lay down amongst the ants and let them devour me from the inside like David Lynch's little turkey and cheese head.
Criminy, is it 12:30 already? What shall I do to-day? I suppose I oughta check and see what's due in class to-night.
Ants, ants everywhere . . . gods, I just hope they don't figure out how to get into the computer room. Once, a long time ago, the ants took the keyboard. They just took it over, and made it theirs. I guess there must've been some food matter on a few of the keys that made them feel they had to disassemble the entire structure . . .
I think if I ever get my own place (if I don't perish first), I shall keep all foods sealed airtight, and I shall make damn sure to never leave crumbs anywhere. I certainly wouldn't just leave half-eaten meals just lying around like a certain grandmother I can think of.