Another blog without photos but you will thank me this time.
In the past week our office building has been overrun with pests of all sizes and species. There was the visiting bat hanging in the stairwell (which Dwight Shrute did NOT capture in a plastic bag around my head, thankfully). However, we may hold a Fun Run for Rabies this spring to honor our furry flying friend. Now we are told our building was diagnosed as roach infested and after pest control spray floods our offices we can expect to find piles of dead bugs in surprising areas.
This diagnosis comes as no surprise to those of us who work in the building. A few years ago a now-retired woman had a puppy-sized creepy crawly drop onto her shoulders as she worked at her desk. There was a shoe-sized roach riding the elevator this summer, and that week we all took the stairs until he finally found an acceptable floor to explore. A coworker several offices down from me attempted to kill a bug the size of a burrito the other day, but wasn't able to finish the job. He left the roach upside down and twitching on the floor. It disappeared overnight and is likely waiting to avenge this slight.
I feel like the lead character from the movie "The Mist" who must decide his own fate. Do I risk certain death and walk through the clouds of pest poison and unknown horrors, or do I take my chances and hope the military rescues us before the flying rats and roaches get me?