Mice

Yesterday, Nancy comes over to Julie and my desk, holding her shoe.

“There is a mouse!”

I’m not wearing shoes. No socks. Totally roughing it at my nicely carpeted desk (Nancy sits in front of me and to the right. Like, I can see her if I really wanted to).

So we have a mouse problem. Awesome. I’d actually prefer that to the Amazon bloodsucking bedbug/tick/unkillable creature that infested the office last summer. Some genius soul traveled there, purchased a hammock, and kindly hung it on the 4th floor, where the alien-to-Utah creatures reproduced in abundance (did I mention this genius soul worked for Intel – who occupied the building BEFORE we moved in? Which means the bugs lived for something like 6 months in an unfinished 4th floor with no people? And the building was sprayed specifically to kill them).

Mice.

So, Nancy was all ready to kill the mouse with the heel of her shoe.

Seriously? I can think of a thousand better alternatives than that. Most of which don’t directly include me, but include one of the guys who sit near me.

Today, there is all kinds of commotion in the cubicles behind me, and the guys come over,

“Did you see the mouse!? It ran right by you.”

Great. They are moving in, closer to me. Naturally they would.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not afraid of mice. But I don’t LIKE them. I don’t like the idea of some nasty furry running rodent around my feet, scurrying around me and touching me and startling me.

After the mouse goes scurrying by, I message the Office Manager, and let her know there has been another sighting. Her response?

“The mice are either spooked or comfortable to be out in the open like that.

Would you like me to request some traps around your cubicle?

*so far so good*

They would most likely get the sticky ones - which would mean you'd most likely see and hear a mouse trapped on those sticky things. They squeal like crazy when they are stuck on those things. Then if you don't throw it away, it will die and decompose. Kinda gruesome, actually.”

Are you kidding me???? Seriously?

NO THANKYOU.

I’d rather have them running past me than agonizingly/slowly/loudly dying and decomposing next to me.

A moment later, I get an IM from a lady who works next to the Office Manager.

“Squeek Squeek”

Funny. Now the whole 4th floor is in on my pain – and not only that – they think it’s funny.

Now i'm reduced to a covered shoe only policy, and I keep my feet off the floor.

Perfect.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m in a meeting. One of the guys walks in, and asks about my dating life. Am I engaged? (This is everyone’s but my favorite discussion)

I give him the death stare."No, haven't met him yet, thanks for checking in."

Julie: “It’s ok; he probably died in the war in Heaven.”

Great.

Thanks, guys.

Love,
Brittney