Fucking gross. The mice are back. One time at the old building, I came in and heard a GREAT story about how when the super early bird plant manager came in at the butt crack of dawn, he heard this rusting noise coming from my cubicle. So he walks over and looks around – there’s a mouse trapped in my trash can. Ew. Thanks for taking care of that one for me. There’s now peanut butter (organic!) on the mousetrap. I bet Tuesday’s going to start with a bang.