some days it doesn't pay to chew through the restraints

I was woken up at 5 AM by a text message from a co-worker asking me to open for her. Actually the text message came at 4 AM but it took me that long to figure out what that buzzing noise was.

Note that I went to bed last night expecting to be starting work at noon.

At 8 AM - after I had been at work for an hour - the gallbladder attack started.

At 3 PM, sans breakfast or lunch or in fact anything other than a cup of peppermint tea and a metric buttload of codeine, I headed home. I fell asleep on the bus. I dreamed about ants. As I walked home from the bus stop I kept thinking what a good thing it was that we didn't really have ants because we are such crap housekeepers that we would have a bitch of a time getting rid of them.

The first thing I did when I got home was to head into the kitchen to get some food. A movement caught my eye and I looked down to see...

Well. Guess.

About a thousand of them.

Fuggit. I was in no shape to deal with this. I made myself a (non-wheat, non-meat, non-diary, non-egg, fuck, fuck, fuck) sandwich and went and killed elves for an hour.

Now they seem to mostly be gone. Definitely the food they were all clustered around is gone.

Maybe I should just tell people they are really small roombas and put them on the payroll.