It's Time for the Critters

Imagine a cross between a centipede, 10 legged spider and one of those fuzzy caterpillars that turns into a beautiful butterfly. No such thing you say. I certainly beg to differ. It's about that time of year here around the office when putting your feet under your desk seems like a very bad idea. You also wish that you could somehow, using your phoenix feather tipped wand, hang your bag, purse, sweater and yourself, in mid air. I have yet to figure out what these things are but they move like lightning and give you chills every time you look at them. I've got chills running up and down my spine at the moment just writing this. My feet also under my desk and . . . in the chair now. The little critters frequent the bathroom and even in your most desperate moment for relief, make you think twice about going out behind the building with a roll of toilet paper. One of my coworkers said she thinks they are a big version of silver fish. Ummmm, no. Silver fish are small and silver. These things are the size of my thumb with antennae, and about 60 legs that hover about 2 inches over the caterpillar shaped body. Smushing sounds like you just stepped on a hand full of goldfish crackers and then is proceeded by dry heaving. I have been here almost two years now and I really am wondering why no one has ever gotten the Orkin Man out here to make it easier for us to put our feet on the floor or plop our butt on the toilet. I just imagine them scattering in the morning when that first light comes on occasionally leaving a bit of evidence of a mutating ritual (i.e. one dead spider, on dead caterpillar, one dead centipede, mini handcuffs and a whip).