Mischief Update–So Much Mischief There’s No Room for Photos of Me!

It’s not all jet-setting, cupcakes, putty, bluets, and birthdays around here!  I have been plenty busy. In fact, I’ve been up to so much that I’ve scarcely had time to jot down an update. I have a little breathing room today, though, and can fill the world in on my thoroughgoing evilness.

I hacked into the campus student information system and changed the due date for one of the student homework assignments from a week out to a couple hours after it was assigned.   I don’t know why everyone was so upset. They always say that humans work better under pressure!

The human female had a check-up the other day, in which the good doctor confirmed that yes, she is getting old and creaky.  He wrote two prescriptions for the pharmacy to keep on file should she need them.  I had a private word with the pharmacists, who went ahead and filled both of them anyway, and then they called the female to let her know they were ready for pickup.  She had to call them back and cancel them, which means that next time she goes in to pick up any medicine she does need, they will look at her disapprovingly and dispense scorn along with pills.  I think they even have a poster of her in the back room, with her face behind one of those red international “No” circles.

Yesterday I hid the new bottle of hair conditioner.  Both humans use the same kind, so until they can get to the store, it is going to be all sorts of tangly around here. It is also a bit cold and dry right now, so each night’s undressing will entail a brilliant static light show as shirts are pulled off over heads.  Almost better than fireworks! And just this morning, I hid the female’s shampoo!  (Of course, once they do buy new bottles, the old ones will miraculously reappear.)

For some years now, the human female’s work group has maintained an online image library, full of thousands of photos of microscope slides, animals in various stages of dissection, and other Scientific Topics.  The students can study pre-defined review sets in preparing for their exams.  Recently, the whole operation was switched from one server to another.  In the process, I saw to it that several things became Unstuck (technical term), so that, while the students can see the review sets and the accompanying questions, the human female is quite unable to add any new images to the site.  Since the human male is the department’s computer specialist, double headaches and wailing have ensued.  I do so love a good two-fer!

I also got involved in the big re-design of the departmental website.  Multiple mortals spent days and hours and burned up millions of brain cells trying to get the page-building program (whichshallremainnamelesslookatthetopleftofthispage) to display tables properly. So they shelled out good money for a plug-in.  Which I promptly tweaked.  It does indeed import tables.  Well, the last column of them anyway…

The fellow whose misfortune it is to collect all the used dissected animals and take them to the incinerator gave the human female and her cohorts exactly twenty minutes’ notice that he was coming.  Unfortunately, said deceased animals (piglets, to be precise) were being stored in one of the classrooms, and at the time, there was a major laboratory exam taking place in the room, so they could not be picked up.  Thus the need to find a place to store a mountain of mini-swine until the next pickup-opportunity– at the end of the semester, which will have generated its own piggy cadavers.  Caution:  there’s no longer as much space in the basement closet as there used to be, and contents may have shifted…  It was either that or stuff them into the unfinished crawl space under the building until they could be retrieved, creating what the human female referred to as “our own little Pet Sematary.” I was in favor of handing them out as Valentine’s day pressies, but for some reason, the human female nixed that idea.  She has no sense of the festive.

We interrupt this Mischief Report for a brief grammar lesson.  Q:  Conjugate “bathroom doors.” A: There have been no hall doors on the bathrooms at the human female’s workplace. There are no hall doors on the bathrooms at the human female’s workplace.  There will be no hall doors on the bathrooms at the human female’s workplace.  At least, that’s the rumor.  Very well, there are interior doors, but no hallway doors.  It is not as large a problem for the women, because (like horses) their business is all in stalls, but in the men’s room, the most-used fixture is in the open, directly opposite the interior doorway.  (I can’t believe I have fallen to sabotaging human plumbing and construction, but it has paid off in dividends of grumbling in a highly satisfactory way.

The other day I helped the Prep Staff when they were making gallons and gallons of a starch solution.  They had  big beakers of boiling starch on hot plates.  It was all going too well, though, so I poked one of the hot beakers with my icy Jotun finger.  Don’t let anyone lie to you–if you heat-shock Pyrex just so, it will crack.  They all stood there, wondering how to get the beaker off the hot plate without it exploding.  Stupid human female, though, had to go and ruin my fun.  She bailed it out with a ladle from the break room.  A ladle!  Ladles are NOT standard lab equipment. That is cheating.

And just to make the human female’s life a little more annoying and surreal, I make sure her email box is kept full of ads, spam, ads, more spam, travel offers for places she hasn’t the time to go to, and announcements for seminars.  The one she does want to go to came with no date, time, or place mentioned, while another has the very elegant title of  “Transdisciplinary research:  A vision for integrating One Health silos.” I couldn’t have come up with anything more jargony and obfuscatory if I’d tried for a week.

Some days she shakes her head so hard I can hear her minuscule brains rattle.  I give my work an 8.5.

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