For years I thought my friends were crazy because they described ants as having a smell. This year, the scent of ants became an all too familiar part of my life. These black, crawling fuckers invaded my apartment when it started getting hot, finding themselves in our food and smashed dead between boobs. (Not mine).

In July, the army of ants successfully pushed forward into my room, attacking my prized Powerbook. “My computer ants,” I’d call them. There would consistently be at least two or three ants roaming around my desk no matter how often I killed those tiny motherfuckers. It got to a point where I was too casual about them. I’d be sitting and typing, and the next thing I knew, I’d be killing them as they rapidly crawled across my hands and arms.

It was then I smelled them, and never felt crazier. Ants! Ants! Everywhere! My skin was literally always crawling. I cleaned, used ant traps, made sure no food ever came close. Still, the ants persisted. Why? I had no clue. Was it the heat of the laptop? That seemed to be the general hypothesis. I accepted it. A few ants here and there, I could live with that right? I mean, I did for roughly three months until, finally, those creepy crawlers went too far – BY INVADING MY FUCKING PRINTER! My printer! I don’t keep food in there. It wasn’t even on, so there went the heat theory. Yet there they were, hundreds of them, scrambling around as if my mere existence set them off in a frenzy. There was yelling, there was screaming, there was screaming and yelling and vacuumming, and the placing of said printer on the porch. Everything was cleaned, even the laptop was wiped down, ant chalk was drawn, and still, the ants kept on coming, one at a time. The printer got moved to the dining table, leaking ants even days later, until Raid was sprayed around the perimeter. It has not been touched since.

My invasion briefly stabilized to the point where I found myself ever so casually thinking of them as my computer ants again. All I had to do was wait for the weather to cool down, right? Then I would finally be rid of this problem. I was wrong. First of all, L.A. takes forever to cool down. Secondly, these ants are WRETCHED MOTHERFUCKERS.

Our food remains fairly safe save for the dead ants smashed in the freezer and fridge door. But my printer, and my roommate’s iron, and MY FACE, are not things that can be taken back to the queen. That’s right, last week, in my sleep, I killed an ant that was crawling on my eye. And the only way I was sure of it was by the smell. I wanted to die but wanted to sleep more, and later awoke completely furious by my inability to escape these pests, and eventually opened my eyes to see an ant crawling at my face on my pillow. It walked on my pillow!

Computer ants, I can deal with. Ants crawling on my face, that’s just unforgivable. But there’s nothing I can do. I just can’t win this battle. What am I supposed to sacrifice, my sanity or my honey face mask? My laptop doesn’t carry food, I don’t stick burritos in my printer, and I certainly don’t scatter crumbs on my face before I sleep.

It started raining today. The first rain of the season. No food, no heat, no ants, right? Just to play it safe, and since I finally had time, I went to Target after work to at least prepare myself for a battle. I considered an ant bomb but the temptation to enclose myself in the poison was too high so I settled for some name brand ant traps, and put them in place as instructed: on the floor by my desk and by my bed. Here I am thinking “Haha, suckers! You can’t escape these traps.” And wouldn’t you know it, I found ants on my ceiling.

Poorly shot video footage may or may not follow depending on when the fury subsides.