Sunday, March 13, 2005
Work Stinks!No, this isn't another diatribe about SWMNBN making me work stupid hours. No, work literally stinks. It smells. Bad.
Friday afternoon, there was the faintest of whiffs in the writing area. However, a wine and cheese buffet for a visiting Prof soon masked it with the odour of cheap cabernet and Brie.
Sunday afternoon however, all traces of wine had disappeared (the remainder having been drunk by the PhD students before the caterers could take it back) and a sour smell permeates the area. Some olfactory detective work has narrowed the nasty niff down to one of four personal lockers. Monday morning, we'll go and see the woman in charge of the lockers and see if she can contact the owner or open it with the master key.
I dread to think what we may find. I have seen photographic evidence that one of the graduate students, who could charitably referred to as "petite" (or uncharitably referred to as "pocket-sized"), can actually fit inside one of the lockers. Well, I saw her walking around friday, so she isn't decomposing in the locker. However, there are number of other almost as "petite" ladies (and even one bloke - nicknamed the Hobbit for obvious reasons) who could be fitted inside the locker with the judicious use of a chainsaw. Could we have our first death in our new building (unconfirmed rumours claim that the new building has been christened already with its first drunken shag in the toilets)? And even more exciting, could we have had our first murder?
Or has someone forgotten the egg sandwiches they brought in for lunch last week?
FOR YOUR PERUSAL