Ant-agonized

Rick and I have lived in this ginormous house of ours for all of six months now. We of course, love the space, love the house layout, and love having a big back yard. But the increased responsiblity of stepping up to quasi-home ownership has left a LOT to be desired.
Back before I had a Rick, I lived by myself, in a crappy little one bedroom apartment on crappy Capital Hill (the crappy part) and had an UBER crappy landlord. Seriously, the only time the guy bothered paying me any mind was to call me at 1 AM under the downstairs neighbor's accusation that I was a hooker. By the way, I got that neighbor back not long afterwards. I recognized her pansyass white SUV being loaded onto a towtruck, and ran a few errands, then right before he was about to drive off I went back to inform her of her soon to depart precious ride. She ran out in her pajamas and no shoes. HA! Anyways, back to slumlord. His complete nonexistence in our building forced me to become quite a capable handi-girl. I could fix basic problems like leaky pipes and loose fixtures, even figured out a few wiring issues. So, because of this unpleasant situation, my future landlords benefitted from having a tenant who only really calls in an emergency.
But you wouldn't know it with these folks. And I tell ya, it's nice to rent from friends who cut you a deal on rent, but when they are crap to fix anything, it gets REALLY fucking irritating. We've had some massive plumbing problems in this place. The pipes were over run with roots when we moved in, and we celebrated Thanksgiving dinner with our bathtub regurgitating what looked like ooze from the depths of Hades. The dishwasher had a severe malfunction that went unnoticed until the water it was burping forth trickled underneith the linoleum and reappeared onto the carpet. Neither toilet flushes properly, and our washer makes such a racket you'd think we had a bipolar grizzley bear camping in a backroom and throwing a tantrum. Anyways, with each prolem, we've had to wait DAYS for our landlord to eventually mosey his ass over (with little to no warning) and monkey with his own feeble attempt at repair.
But this latest fiasco has me out of my little short circuiting mind. Quite literally actually. You see, we have an ant problem. And I'm not talking about a few that discovered an unattended sugar bowl. There are ants everywhere. All over the counters, on the floors, in the cat's food, in the cubboards, in our dhishwasher, and in the bathroom. Apparently, it's a moisture thing, which harkens back to the aforementioned abyssmal plumbing in this place. And guess what? I HATE ANTS. I mean, I hate all bugs with an equal passion, but ants will send me up the walls. I see one, I start itching. And these ants are cousins of Satan himself, because no matter what I do, they keep coming back. We've had them for months now. I've tried everything, sprays, baitboxes, traps. Everything short of declaring nuclear war. I finally told Rick he needed to tell the landlord we wanted an exterminator out here. The wife had already been brushing us off by handing us a box of anttraps everytime rick brought it up.
So, after spraying for the umpteenth time, I screeched to rick that he needed to demand action by the end of the week or I was going to go rambo on the place. We're still getting brushed off. They said they would come by with their own spray, but that was two weeks ago. GAAAAHHH!!!
I lost a little bit of sanity today. You see, I'd been trying this natural repellent formula I found on the net, which involved a peppermint extract. Now, I guess I have an allergy to peppermint, because everytime I'm confronted with the scent, I sneeze uncontrollably. Anthony found it highly amusing to see mommy running around the house going *spray spray SNEEZE spray spray SNEEZE*. But I would not be deterred from my mission. I already scrub the counters daily, and have probably completely confused the cats by all the contraptions I've used to attempt to keep their kibble off the floor. I had noticed a trail of the little demons going from some loose moulding in the kitchen, and decided to cut off their entry point. I first tried wood glue to seal the gap, but it just seeped inward and still left a gaping maw which the devil spawn continued to pour forth from. In my wild panic to close the portal, I realized I had a handy dandy hotglue gun that could do the job well. Mind you, it's of the miniature variety, so I used about twenty miniglustix today. I proceeded to seal up the whole length of moulding, and screamed a victory howl when it was finished and I saw that the tide of intruders had stopped.
Rick came home and noticed my handiwork (and the resulting slightly psychotic smile of pride on my face), and decided maybe it was a good idea to get mommy out of the house for a bit. So we went off, came back, and I put the little one to bed. I came back in the kitchen, and about swallowed my tongue when I noticed more ants on the floor. "You bastards!" I hissed, and grabbed the gluegun. I crouched on the floor, following the trail so I could find the new entry point. There was another bit of loose moulding by the fridge I had missed on my earlier hotgluing fever. I cackled with manic delight and sealed the crack, even managing to get a few of the squirming little bastards into the stream of heated gooey death. Rick looked over at me, crouching there with a gluegun on the floor, muttering to myself as I darted around trying to find any more spots I missed.
"Honey, are you talking to the ants?"
"..." I continued on my quest.
"Okay, I think I'm gonna go ahead and just call an exterminator tomorrow."
"I hate ants"
"I know dear. Put down the gluegun please?"