Another day, another horribly bad Star Wars based pun.
I got home yesterday to find my kitchen being invaded by ants, so I spent an hour committing some serious mass insecticide last night. There must have been over a hundred of the buggers swarming over the counter under the kitchen window.
Ants are funny creatures – they truly operate on the hive level, and as I was systematically exterminating their presence from my kitchen, you could see the survivors getting increasingly agitated, almost as if they were operating on a Delta Force “Leave No Ant Behind” principle, rushing towards the scene of their fellow drone’s death to investigate. Which naturally made it all the more easier for me to kill them, until I got down to the last dozen or so, when they went totally mental, and couldn’t decide where to go – it was like the ant equivalent of Auschwitz, there were so many corpses lying around.
If Bill Bailey's dream of the insects taking over the world ever comes to fruition, I'll be the first one up against the wall and shot.
If I was a Buddhist, I’d be abjectly remorseful with grief for killing a fellow life form, but thankfully I’m not – and unless the ants decide they want to pay rent and contribute to my mortgage, then they can stay the fuck out of my home.
I’m sure it’s all down to the weather – it’s been fantastic lately – high twenties Centigrade plus, for the last few days, making me all the more thankful for an air conditioned office, even if I don’t have any windows with which to see the sun.
The heat makes it all the more appropriate that I’m listening to the MP3 of the Miami Vice theme tune (that I downloaded for my Vice City MP3 player) at the moment.
The downside to all the good weather is that the clamminess gives me terrible bouts of insomnia, and makes it really difficult to get the right amount of sleep – not helped by the fact that this year I’ve started suffering from hayfever, which makes me feel terribly sluggish.
The only bonus is that when it’s hot, my appetite reduces to practically nothing, meaning that it’s a great time to lose all the weight I tend to pile on over the winter. Since it’s so hot this year, and I’m starting to regularly exercise again, I should drop all the excess weight I’ve picked up over the last year. I anticipate that the two week holiday I’ve got coming up in August in Porto will provide a similarly good opportunity – Portugal isn’t exactly known for its wet summers, and Porto is enticing close to a very warm ocean to swim in.
It’d be nice to be slim, svelte and fit again, and put back the inevitable onset of middle age back yet another year. So much professional and financial responsibility can really weigh on a man – worrying about your career and whenever you’ve taken on too much debt to handle. I should be living it up clubbing, driving fast cars and having dangerous sex with loose women at my age – not living like Hugh Laurie in FortySomething, but without the kids. I don’t want to grow out of my prime just yet, dammit.
Unfortunately, I don’t know any loose women, but at least I have the car. That’s a start. Isn't it?