Why I Can't Stop Crying

I don't usually blog while crying. This isn't my diary; it's a public forum, even if my public is somewhat limited. People don't want to read about whatever spat the husband and I just had, at least not until the point when I gain some perspective and see a little bit of humor. Today, I am making an exception. If I waited till I stopped crying, it might be a very long time indeed before I posted.

You may remember that we're selling our condo. On Sunday, we had an open house. Only two or three people came, but that's not why I'm crying. We found out that our buzzer is broken, but that's not why I'm crying either. That evening, while I was finishing dinner and the husband was talking on the phone to a friend, he started noticing little bugs with big wings. They were all in the vicinity of the south wall of our living room. They looked a bit like ants, so we were a bit worried, but we killed all the ones we saw, and didn't find any more. All was right with the world.

Until today. In the past hour, I have killed at least 15 of these little bugs with big wings. And now they are along the north wall of our office. I put some rubbing alcohol in a bowl and dropped a few in, and googled "ants big wings". And guess what? Our ants? Not ants at all. In fact, it looks very likely that our ants are termites. Termites, you see, have big wings when they go out to seek love and shelter. They will shed the wings after mating, and then settle down to lead a happy of life of destroying the lives of wood-owning humans. I have already found two with no wings, and am hopeful that they are genetic freaks and not freshly sated lovers. Yes, that's right, I am at a point where I am just hoping that the swarming insects in my house haven't gone all the way yet.

They may or may not have been brought in through the cocoa shell mulch that our slovenly neighbors purchased and left in the main entryway. They may or may not be the kind of termites that eat houses. (Apparently there are kinds that don't). Does it really matter? Would you buy a condo with termites crawling in it, if the owners promised that the termites were just visiting and totally didn't want to eat the beautiful vintage wooden hutch or the gorgeous hardwood floors? Oh, and by the way, your visitors will have to throw rocks at your windows to let you know they want to come in. But really, the place is cute!

I am trying to stay calm. The internet has led me astray before. The husband is still at work, and there is a chance he will come home and convince me that I'm loony. But I've killed five of these things while typing this, so I think we might have some kind of problem regardless. So I'm sorry to blog while crying, but you know what? It's my decaying condo, and I'll cry if I want to.