At first, I calmly went over, grabbed a Kleenex, snuck back to the mirror and calmly swatted him. I missed. He flew off. I searched all over the place, but no gnat.
As the days have gone on, I have grown increasingly desperate. Now I grab the first thing I see and fling it at his little gnat body.
You see, gnats and I have history. It began back in '97 and it's an ugly story involving a funeral home and a gnat going places where it shouldn't. You really don't want to know. Just know this, I hate them. They hate me back, I promise. You'll find several example anecdotes here and here.
Today, I found him at his regular morning spot on the mirror. I grabbed a pill bottle and brought it against the mirror at ninja speed. SMACK! I peered out of one eye to see my results. I got him.
I cleaned off the pill bottle, placed it back beside the sink and turned around to leave. There, on the top of the pill bottle stood YET ANOTHER FREAKING gnat. Just staring at me.