Well, after viciously attacking ants with Windex, and putting out several ant traps, the ants seem to have eased off.

Which is really, really nice.

Last night went well.

I cooked dinner.

Mike had a shower.

I burnt out a pot quite severely.

Mike pulled me away from the stove, pushed me up against the wall and kissed me with such urgent passion, that my stomach did a flip-flop and my insides melted in a rising heat.

Then I finished cooking dinner.

Pinapple chicken (which turned out a lot better than I was expecting).

Nugget potatoes (that tasted faintly like smoke, because they were in the pot I burnt out).

Breadsticks I cheated on beacuse I bought the Pillsbury ones.

Man, though! Those Pillsbury containers should have a warning label on 'em! I near peed myself when, as I was cautiously ripping open the paper, it half-exploded open!

What a fright.

But I baked them (half assed-ly, I might add; none of them were even) with parmesean and mayonaise and basil, like the recipe on the container said, and they were really, really tasty.

Then cherries and fresh strawberries from the garden with whipped cream for dessert.

It was lovely.

We ended up sleeping in my bed because I'd forgotten the hideabed was broken.

My eensie weensie itty bitty little bed.

It sucked.

I think, if I can talk Mike into coming over again, we'll either sleep on the floor or in the spare room (the bed is bigger and the room is cooler).

I really hope he does come over again.

I hate being in this house all alone.

Oh well.

Life sucks.

Then you get hit by a bus.

Before&After