Eeeep.
The wildlife adventures have followed me to work. I do not ask for this stuff to happen. It just does.

Today's Friday afternoon work adventure has been harrowing, to say the least. I'm here, in my office, minding my own business. Just trying to make it through the rest of the afternoon so that my weekend can begin and I can get out of here.

I hear a rustling in the corner. I look over. I see a mouse peering back at me from atop a pile of papers and boxes.

THERE'S A MOUSE IN MY OFFICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A MOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He scurries away, as do I. I run downstairs looking for someone, anyone. What do I do?

I ask our secretary who to talk to about finding a mouse in my office. And by 'finding', I mean 'I found a mouse, tell me who to find to get it out of my office, RIGHT NOW!'

You know, I can handle a squirrel in my house. I can handle bird shrapnel in my front yard. But a mouse in my office???? This has really gone too far.

We don't technically have a maintenance guy here at my place of employment. Nor do we have a technical Director of Mouse Removal. Our secretary began calling people in the building, asking who we should talk to about the mouse. Mysteriously on a Friday afternoon, most people in the office seem to be MIA.

Maybe the mouse already got them.......

We finally track down the info that one of our program guys is serving as a 'maintenance type person', and he'd be the one to put on the mouse situation. Secretary and I go on a hunt to find this guy. We find him out back behind the building.

At first mention of mouse in my office, he laughs. Apparently it's funny for the young Development Director girl to be squeamish about a mouse in my office. Therefore, I'd like to set the record straight as saying that I am not squeamish. I just don't like the thought of a tiny furry disease-ridden thing roaming freely amongst the junk in my office, threatening to jump out and attack me with it's venemous fangs at any unsuspecting moment.

Is that so wrong???

I didn't think so. Get it out of here. NOW.

Maintenance Man tells me he'll be up to my office in a jiffy. My question then was, during this 'jiffy', what am I supposed to do? Hang out with the mouse?? I don't think so.

I spend some time in the restroom. I slowly walk back up the stairs to my office. I carefully re-enter the Mouse Zone, and I survey the area to see if I see the mouse before he sees me.

No mouse.

I approach my desk, where in one very swift nano-second before quickly evacuating at the sight of the mouse, I had swooped up and closed both my purse, and what was left of my snacks for the day. Priority Number One is to save the snacks. No mouse on this earth better come between, or get to my snacks first.

I. Will. Lose. It.

Once the purse and snacks were deemed secure, I decided to have a closer look into the corner where I saw the mouse. It was a little eerily quiet. This made me uncomfortable.

I then noticed Secretary standing at my door, surveying the situation. Was she waiting for me to single-handedly find the mouse and save the shelter from the rabid beast?? She would be waiting a long time for that. Turns out, she was scared of the mouse and feared for her own safety, even though her office is down the stairs and around the corner. Why is no one thinking of MY safety but me??

Soon Maintenance Man arrives and takes a look around. No mouse. And no apparent holes in the wall or ceiling. This is disturbing. Very disturbing.

I want to see where the mouse came in, and where he left. No hole means he is either (and most probably) still in my office and hiding someplace where he will jump out and eat me alive as soon as everyone else leaves me here alone to fend for myself. Or, he came in and left through the office door. A possibility that is oddly disturbing, as that means he blatantly ran across my floor and I didn't notice. Or, he has a secret entrance and exit that we will never find, and will allow him to forever after come and go as he pleases.

Find the hole!!!!!!

Well, it turns out the shelter is ill equipped to deal with a mouse situation, which I also found disturbing because a homeless shelter seems to me to be a place that mice would rather enjoy. This could mean that since we have nothing with which to combat a mouse infestation, there are literally thousands of them waiting to follow that one little mouse into my office and make themselves at home.

That's it. Either the mouse and his posse goes, or I go.

Turns out, I can't leave til my work day is over. Mouse Attack is apparently not grounds for 'please take the rest of the afternoon off.' So, back to plan Rid Office of Mouse.

Maintenance Man decided he could probably find a mouse trap, so off he went to do so. Leaving me alone again with the mouse somewhere in my office. I decided the safest thing to do at that point was to stand very still in the middle of the room, darting my eyes about the room in silent 'search' mode. I will see that mouse before he gets me.

Then, curiosity got the better of me and I ventured over again to the Mouse Corner. I began pawing through the debris in the corner, determined to find the hole, but hoping not to find the mouse. I found nothing. The mouse had disappeared. The hole was non-existent. It's a magic disappearing invisible psycho ravenous lethal mouse.

I went back to the middle of the office.

Just as I heard footsteps approaching, however, I moved back towards the desk so as not to look like Poor Helpless Staff Girl, and instead to look very, very busy rustling papers about on my desk. I don't need any more attention or fun poked at me around here. That's for sure.

Maintenance Man belonged to the footsteps I heard, and he triumphantly returned with the tiniest mouse trap I've ever seen. It contained a smear of peanut butter. This peanut butter was apparently there to attract the mouse.

Um, okay.

The trap was set underneath a cabinet next to the wall. Maintenance Man told me to let him know if it caught anything.

Oh you can bet I will definitely let you know less than one second after I hear anything snap from that area of the office.....

And, he said that's all he can do for now.

So, now I sit with an hour left until I can flee from here. My legs are folded into my chair so that my feet are off the ground. Anything near or dear to me sits in front of me on the desk. All food I do not intend to eat before I leave today has been thrown out. The M&Ms are covered tightly for protection. And I am typing while sitting as far away from the desk as possible, so that nothing can run across underneath or on top and come anywhere near me.

I'm an island, unto myself, fearing the mouse.

63 minutes to go, and counting...........

C.T.