Came into work this morning hoping that yesterday was just a bad dream.
Rats are still here.
Or mice, rather -- as everyone feels the need to correct me. Not rats. Mice.
Big freaking difference when your office is overrun by vermin.
We have traps down now. We have snap traps looted with peanut butter. (Supposedly, that lures the mice in, but I am doubtful. We probably have a better chance of catching Ron, the requisite chubby/greasy guy in Accounting.) And we have glue traps, which aren't traps per say, but rather just sticky pieces of paper placed face-up so that any mice who dare to tread on it get stuck.
I'm disgusted by the thought of them running around the office, but it's not much more comforting that they're lying dead in traps.
Somehow, I think it's my job to remove them.
Oh, I don't get freaking paid enough for this.
Who cares anyway? Quite frankly, I'm thinking of blowing the kitty and investing in some good, old-fashioned rat poison.