I hate thyme, remember? When I posted that, I found out a lot of my regular readers like thyme.
Sickos! Right, we’re all deeply flawed and yet perfect as we are.
If you didn’t remember I hated thyme, now you know I still do, right?
Set that aside.
A few weeks ago, there was a panic at work when “a huge spider” was spotted in the basement. It was, I quote, “a huge spider”.
Our basement is creepy af. It is. I’m not particularly creeped out by basements. I spent three years sleeping in one. So dark. So cool. However, I understand that if one doesn’t care for basements, generally, overall, then our office’s basement is particularly creepy. When the property was first acquired, the basement housed old iron beds with blood-stained mattresses from prior questionable medical practices. It now stores files and things you’d expect to find in a basement, like the mop bucket, tools, and old window screens.
It’s also got a kitchenette. It’s not as fancy as the upstairs kitchenette, but it has one. That’s where we store the beverages. We are heavily dependent on soda. Mostly diet soda, I suppose because we eat candy like we are six and every day is Halloween. Some days I don’t eat candy. Because there’s pastry. Or ice cream. Or cookies. Or cake. Seriously.
Office Assistant generally buys the treats. She works 10+ hours and consumes only black coffee, water, and an apple. She tries to help us junkies by setting out naturally sweet items or lightly sweetened nuts and we eat those, too, BUT WE WANT THE CANDY!
She says things like, “I’m going to Rome for two weeks,” and my first thought is not oh how nice or bring me some door photos, it’s OMFG we’re going to run out of candy! We had some serious deadlines in the last two weeks. I thought we were running out of candy, but Receptionist found the other half of the two-ton bag, Phew!
Anyway, back to the basement — Receptionist has the task of collecting beverages from downstairs and stocking the upstairs, which is when she saw “a huge spider” and informed the boss, who said she’d have Office Assistant ring the bug guy. It was just the three of us during the spider conversation, and I was the only one who hadn’t experienced some sort of heinous spider attack. I certainly did not mention that I did not share their feelings about spiders. I’ll kill a spider in my house if it frightens the kids or looks like it’s sizin me up. If it’s a big’un and I can see its eyes and it’s all “This my bathmat, Bitch!” I’ll kill it. I carry the baby ones out of my house, like, “Here, live in the garden, be happy, do happy spider things! Wheeeeeee!” One huge spider in the basement won’t keep me from the soda unless the spider is some Aragog-lookin thing.
Yesterday, the bug guy came. And he sprayed and sprayed and sprayed and the entire office stunk of THYME OIL. Prolly still does, fml.
Happy Friday Everyone!