Last night's termite swarm ended after an hour or so - I was killing all the buggers by hand before decided to go after 'em with the vacuum. I had just cleaned out the vacuum - it's bagless and has a filter that gets clogged quickly. So all those pieces were washed and waiting in repose in my bathtub until the daylight when I could set them out to try in the sunshine. I'm not a fan of electricity and water combined.
But desperate times call for desperate measures, and wet filter got reassembled and put to work as a tool of termite slaying.
We were not fully victorious, however. I woke up this morning to a layer of termite wings.
OK, in principle, they're kind of cool - like shed fairy wings.
In reality - I had just scrubbed my floors, DAMMIT. They were as clean as my dishes, and these damn wood-eaters had to destroy my moral satisfaction in an immaculate abode.
Once again, I just remind myself - they were not roaches. That's the only thing that makes me feel better right now. I'm starting to really, really hate process tasks - the things that are never done. Sure, I can wash my dishes right now - but won't they just get dirty again, requiring it over and over again? So, what's the purpose? (This is why I love dishwashers - out of sight, out of mind.) Same with laundry. Cleaning. Sweeping my front steps. I love everything clean all the time, but why clean it when it just gets dirty again? Or cooking and eating - I'll just get hungry again, so what's the point?
Sigh.
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