What's got into these guys lately? I've had this constant problem with what I've learned were called, ghost ants, but there must be some bigger guys too since I can most definitely feel their bites.
As I'm laying my head down to sleep later, I recall that the problem seems to have gotten worse about two months ago. That's also the same time when I started noticing more nasty grit and the occasional unidentifiable semi-gooey tidbit lingering around my desk chair base. Shit that fell off my plate while I eat at my desk? Maybe. Not impossible. But I'm usually more careful than that.
Oh, unless I'm shit-faced drunk as fuck.
Believe it or not, my mind drifts off to thoughts of my front door off the carport. I think how nasty it all looks by the welcome mat with visible greasy spots on the steps. What will first-responders think when they come to either take me to the hospital after I've called 911, or, when they come to extract me, maybe even with a forklift? (like those 600 pound fucks) once I'm finally dead.
Huh?! WTF!
I get up, turn on the light and decide to get to the bottom of this. And slowly but surely, the wisps of buried memories start to shakily come back into view.
Back in September, I decided to try out my bake feature to my new multi-way microwave oven that includes convection and air-fry cooking, and I went to Publix where I bought some Krusteaz Cranberry Orange Muffin Mix and, while I'm at it, some packets of Daily's Frozen Cocktails...Peach on the Beach flavor. Oh, and why not pop in next door to the liquor store to get me a big ol' bottle of Bacardi Dark Rum. So began my month long obsession with devil-may-care eating, my dwindling finances, social unrest, Covid craziness, morbid thoughts and gallons of sweet, sweet tropical rum drinks.
The evidence is all there: The AMEX statement, the Amazon and Walmart.com order histories confirming the purchase of a box or raisins from Walmart.com on September 3rd (this'll come into play in a bit) and ruling out Krusteaz bought through them, so it must have been from Publix. The blog posts here in September dealing with the above mentioned concerns, albeit, leaving out the Rum-athon.
I think I bought a 12-pack when grabbing the rum...nah, I'm sure of it. Guzzled that shit down, got full on blackout fucked up and decided to bake me a cake. Got no muffin tins so I used a 9" baking pan. Had me some raisins in the fridge from a recent Walmart.com delivery (here it is) so I threw some in the batter. Of course I over cooked it and burned the edges.
Is that what set off my smoke alarm that startled me while I'm passed out at my desk? That might have been some other night and frozen pizza may have been the victim.
The cranberry-orange-raisin cake was still edible though so I let it cool, grabbed me a big ol' spoon, took the whole pan into my room, sat at my desk and dug in. Then I passed out, letting the whole mashed up pan of cake fall to the floor. When I came to, perhaps hours later, I saw what I'd done and, to my credit, I guess, I at least took care of the mess right away. Kinda.
Rather than get down on my knees and pick up all the chunks and vacuum the rest, I got my broom, swept the bigger chunks across the carpeted bedroom floor, into the linoleum hall, opened the door and pushed the mess out. Pooped from all that and still most definitely drunk, I crawled into bed and re-passed out.
The next day, I woke with a mean hangover and absolutely no recollection of any of it. I saw the remains of the burned sides of the cake in the pan in the sink, partially soaking in nasty, cake-chunk strewn water and remembered making the cake but not dropping it. Later when I walked out the door I saw my stairs littered with chunks of raisin-dotted cake. Embarrassed, I quickly got my broom and swept the mess off into the grass behind the trash bins. Did I do that? I must have. I literally couldn't remember.
So I guess this is my life. Back to blackout shitting in Gary's mother's closet, pissing in Albert's oven and shitting in Candy's comforters. I guess I'm glad it's just cake, not piss or shit. Maybe I'm saving that for December?