I must make a confession: I haven’t been very creative lately. Oh, I’m still plenty evil, but the humans, especially the female, are so boring that they don’t always give me scope to exercise my mischief.
However, I have not been altogether idle. I arranged for one of the classroom aquaria to start a s l o w, drippy leak. Electricity plus water–one of my favorite combinations!
It’s hard to photograph water on glass. You’ll simply have to imagine the puddle. The unit was under warranty, so the human female called the vendor. The vendor referred her to the Maker of Fish Prisons. The Maker of Fish Prisons wanted a copy of the packing slip. There never WAS a packing slip, but they were eventually persuaded to accept a copy of the original order. When the new unit arrived, it was minus the lid. Several calls back and forth to and from the Maker of Fish Prisons revealed that the human’s staff was supposed to use the lid from the old one, since it was not the leaky bit. Eventually there was a complete, leakless fish prison, so the human female is happy. Oh, well. At least I slowed her down…
I hid her ipad for two days. On her desk. In plain sight. Well, under some Important Papers. Yesterday, I distracted her when she should have been retrieving her USB drive from her work system preparatory to departing, so she went the evening with the tremble-wollies without it. She’s OLD enough to remember the geologic ages before USBs and laptops but has adapted just well enough to rely on them much too much.
She swears I must butter her eyeglasses because she is always having to clean them. As if I would do such a thing! Don’t need to. I butter her eyebrows while she sleeps and the rest is all her fault.
I have been helping the human female with her Giant Smashed Plant Database from the Infernal Regions. When it was converted from one format to another, I saw to it that a large number of records had their collection dates corrupted, with the year failing to make the change properly. While she hunts down records from the 1900’s that should be the 1800’s and ones that say 1800’s while they belong to the 200o’s, I am hard at work changing genus names to outdated synonyms, transcribing labels into incomprehensible cursive Cyrillic, and dreaming up new variant misspellings of collector names. Neither one of us is gaining on the other, so we should be able to play this game indefinitely.
BAMN continues to pay dividends as well. Last week I arranged an error code that said, “Subaccount 9999 is invalid.” Ehehehe! There wasn’t anything IN the subaccount field! This week I have hidden the widget that lets a user split a purchase order between two accounts. Now that the human female has found it, I have gone back to writing funny product code search results. Look–she’s trying to purchase dead, stiff kitties again!
Gifts. Skinned, latex-injected cats are definitely gifts.
I hexed her desktop Adobe program so that it will not display the last six or so pages of a long pdf document. She spent a good hour the other day re-scanning pages and trying to figure out where they’d gone. Oh, they’re there, all right. She just can’t have them.
The City’s Powers That Be are debating allowing a large apartment complex to be constructed precisely where the human female’s favorite pond is, the one Sigyn and I like to go look at. She showed up full of righteous fire at the Council meeting only to find I’d pulled the hearing from the agenda. Now she’ll have to gird her loins a second time later this week. Did you know she squeaks like a rat when you put her in front of a microphone and let her address elected officials?
The bathroom hallway doorways in the human female’s workplace continue to lead empty lives.
With the weather tripping across the line from winter to spring, interest in outdoor activities is on the rise. The human female actually made shift to weed and turn the compost heap the other day. I arranged some ophidian occupants for said heap.
Unfortunately, she is conversant with the reptile species of this region. She correctly identified them as harmless little earth snakes and released them back into the compost when she was done. Rats. Next time, woman, Jörmungandr.
Enh. I give it a 7.