Here’s a scene you probably never want to see at your job:

When we got our computers upgraded, they opened up the ceiling and yep, down came the mouse crap, cradle and all. Then they just left the ceiling open like that. Are they nuckin’ futs???

When I went to see about contacting OSHA to clean up this mess, it turns out we’re not even within their jurisdiction. Instead, I had to contact an agency that belongs to the same local government I was employed by, you know, the very one that refused to do anything about these health code violations in the first place? Well that’s just… perfect.

In the end, I flipped off my useless supervisor and quarantined the area, then set up a nice, clean new desk for the coworker who usually sat in that spot. I may have to close up the ceiling myself, but since it’s directly above the next section as well, maybe I can get the supe there to bring maintenance down and clean it up instead before sealing it again.

Then I called up ISD and suggested in a polite tone what their mothers really did for a living, and if they wanted to restore the family honor perhaps they could come down and pick up our now useless 30 year old terminals and printers?

Turns out it wasn’t really their equipment to begin with (so they say). So I asked around and found out as long as I inventoried the terminals, I could gather it all up and dump them in the basement to be scrapped. So I filled out the inventory forms and asked my supe to sign it.

Sure enough, he refused to sign it. Evidently he doesn’t like his name being associated with anything other than his paycheck, so I shrugged my shoulders… and went over his head. I got the bureau head to sign off on it instead, grabbed a cart, and cleared our section out of all the old equipment we weren’t using anymore, then had maintenance come down and vacuum up everything that was left over. There must have been three inches of dust everywhere, and we were breathing this crap too. BUT, finally, after over a year of this nonsense, our section was cleaned and almost looked like an office again.

I was dirty and sweaty by the time everything was finished, but in the end I had accomplished more in one day than my supervisor ever did in the 12 months that he’s been here. I could already feel the morale lifting in my section. If my coworkers were happy now, then I was happy.

Just to spice up our section a little bit more though, I put up my lava lamp and pretty party lights again. I think I’ll also get one of those fog machines from Party City and install it under my supervisor’s desk. Our section might be clean now, but it does need some… atmosphere, ya know?

It was quiet yesterday at work. My boss hadn’t said a thing, and nobody came to clean up the mouse poo either. I’m assuming this means the men upstairs haven’t spoken to my boss yet about anything. Guess they don’t want show they can be bossed around by a lowly civilian, so they’re dragging their heels. Oh well, if the mice continue to use our area as their own personal restrooms for another few days, and upstairs still doesn’t do anything about it, I may have to call OSHA. If it comes to that, I can probably expect some real fireworks then.

Like a good possible-future-but-not-likely attorney, I realized if I was going to make a solid case for discrimination, I needed to give my boss and upstairs enough rope for which they could hang themselves. As of now nothing really happened that was actionable. One of the elements needed to make a successful cause of action is show that there had been harm. So I asked myself, “Where’s the harm here?” The only thing I received thus far was an idle threat, but my hours hadn’t been changed, I hadn’t lost any pay, and I hadn’t been disciplined. So rather than be a good boy and inform these lovely folks what rights I’m entitled to under the ADA, I think it’s best to stay quiet and see just how far they’ll take their threats.

I also realized with some sadness that as long as there would be this much turmoil in our division, I’d never be able to attend law school. All the added stress would make me flunk out my first semester for sure. I needed some stability at my job before I could take such a risk, and with them jerking me around about changing my schedule and creating other needless chaos, who’s to say that even if they agreed to a schedule change, that they wouldn’t pull the rug right out from under me the minute I started school?

Oh well. It ain’t over till it’s over. For now I just have to keep rolling with the punches.