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| Picture Courtesy of US Department of Agriculture |
THE MOUSE
I am a foodie; I like to visit restaurants, where the food is exceptionally good -- the type I cannot make at home. I am comfortable in the huge, new restaurants, with the open kitchen area. But the tiny 50-year-old ones give me the creeps. I know the food is great, but I do not see the kitchen from my table. That is the problem...
You know how the workplace in America is -- open office area, where people have breakfast, lunch, and dinner -- coffee, sandwiches, salads, Chinese, sushi, Korean, everything you can possibly eat as fast as you can, while working, texting, and talking to several bosses, co-bosses, co-workers, etc.
One day in the office, mice droppings were found. This unequivocally suggested, "We have mice guests." Exterminators were called; sticky traps were placed...
On the next day, I could not wait to see how successful we were. On entering my office, I saw a mouse on the sticky. I had to share my discovery. I ran into the big office room, holding the trap with 2 fingers. "Look what I found, guys!" The reaction was more robust than I expected. One of the girls climbed on top of her desk; the others were screaming... I looked at the trap and realized that the mouse was making a final attempt to escape. The legs were moving slowly. This was the moment when I felt..."Oh, looks like I am freaking out, too!" Maintaining composure in extreme situations was not my forte.
I was told later I had found my empty sandwich bag and gently put the sticky trap with the mouse in there. Then I had sealed the bag.
I apologized to everyone for the commotion, but I could not get enough joy from"saving the office" from a little mouse. Did I really save the office, or I needed the mouse to save me?
On the next day, I could not wait to see how successful we were. On entering my office, I saw a mouse on the sticky. I had to share my discovery. I ran into the big office room, holding the trap with 2 fingers. "Look what I found, guys!" The reaction was more robust than I expected. One of the girls climbed on top of her desk; the others were screaming... I looked at the trap and realized that the mouse was making a final attempt to escape. The legs were moving slowly. This was the moment when I felt..."Oh, looks like I am freaking out, too!" Maintaining composure in extreme situations was not my forte.
I was told later I had found my empty sandwich bag and gently put the sticky trap with the mouse in there. Then I had sealed the bag.
I apologized to everyone for the commotion, but I could not get enough joy from"saving the office" from a little mouse. Did I really save the office, or I needed the mouse to save me?
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to real situations, persons,living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters appearing in this blog are fictitious.
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