Open Letter to Ants

To the ants that have taken over my apartment:

If you are on some kind of mission to save your colony from evil grasshoppers, I apologize, but this has got to stop.  Enough is enough.  You have turned me into someone I no longer recognize.  One minute I am a Samurai Warrior bent on destroying everything in my path (e.g. you) and the next I am brushing wildly at my arm because I live in permanent fear that you are crawling all over me.  Not cool, ants.  Not cool.

My kitchen countertops have become a barren wasteland.  I can longer leave out a half eaten cupcake or even the crumbs from a piece of pizza because you come pouring out of the walls the moment I put the plate down.  And don't try to tell me you're helping me to be cleaner.  I'm not buying your invasion as a selfless act.  Because of you I am constantly armed with a sponge, ready to swipe your endless trails into the sink.  What are you even looking for?  There's nothing for you here!  Nothing, I tell you!

You should see a specialist about your obsessive compulsive need to scurry across every inch of my kitchen and beyond.  You need something from inside my hall closet?  Really?  You know you can't carry away a whole piece of dog food.  Why do you insist on surrounding the dog bowl?  You ignore a plate that once had a sugary slice of apple pie on it, yet you go to great lengths to find a napkin with a teeny tiny bit of scrambled egg on it.  Why?!

It doesn't have to be this way, ants.  Remember those carefree days when you respected boundaries?  You stayed outside and I would admire you while out on my walks, shaking my head in amusement at your antics.  Remember how I would chuckle good naturedly as you tried to take a piece of leaf back to your ant hill that was five times the size of your whole body?  I used to admire your tenacity, but now you have turned this pointless determination against me.  You've ruined our once healthy relationship.

Clearly my mixture of alternately hoping that you will go away on your own and washing you down the drain in a rage is not working.  This is the end of the line, ants.  Leave now or it's curtains.  Don't make me bring out the ant traps. 

Love, Rebecca