The Mouse Ran Up the Clock

I don't believe in writing about my work. If I do, I have many things to say.. but I am not. (Although my stand on blogging on ex-colleagues still stand. :-D But I have to blog about this. I have been attacked.

For weeks, it is no secret among the colleagues that we have ratatouilles living among us in the office. No, they don't cook us food. No, they don't run up the clock. We don't have one. The mother bred and now, we are dealing with ratatouille juniors, except that we don't know how many.

Sure, I had heard of their accomplishment. The mom was already caught, and no one knew what to do about it. The last time I saw it, it was left in a trap, on the staircase, where my college students were able to view it. Talk about marketing.

The b-rats, however, are still around. I knew one chew my colleague's mouse wire. Yes, envy. One mouse after the other mouse's supposedly tail. I cared not. I did not even care when they chewed through the thin cover of my colleagues' container, which contained now tainted biscuits. Yucks. Bits of yellow chewed cover could be seen on tables and chairs, and the can of biscuit laid below my table, after it had fallen. I did not care. In fact, I thought my colleague should had known better.

Until it got personal. The stupid b-rats attacked my plant.

Look at my poor chewed up leaves. What stupid rat would want to do that?

This one's a goner. It was chewed off.
I know I should be worried about the plant's survival...
..but anyone notices how dry my fingers are? And the lines.. Hm.

Well, it's of no surprise that no one can really pinpoint where the b-rats (although I imagine them being bigger now) are hiding. Look at the number of boxes we have in the office. Boxes after boxes, and no one knows what to do with them. Not wanting to be called as the complainer and not the initiator, I took out one big box of really old stuff and put it outside, just to be told by my boss that it did not belong outside. I had to move the box back in, to stand beside all those other boxes, that no one wants, but no one knows what to do with.

I am just waiting for the day when these boxes injure me a little, and I am able to stay on medical leave for days. Nothing like breaking my leg. Nope. But good enough for me to file a proper complain. And then, they will clean up the mess.

This has to be the mother spaceship.
I think rats breed here.
I think animals breed here.
I think lost civilization of Amazon is here.

Day Two: The mouse knocked down the cat.
Yup, my colleague's pink cat had a great fall.
And it's not even a crap.

And the rat chewed more.

I should do something for my plant. I think a funeral is inevitable. I should done it today at work, but I got busy. Sigh.. And to think that my first plant is stolen.. My second plant is raped.