Apparently I have a “repair aura” this morning.
I “fixed” the fax machine with my presence… I merely walked by, giving it a look and it clicked on, dutifully sending pages to assorted points around the world…perhaps it was afraid of getting some of what the router in the other room got once I was through with it. Don’t make me get all “Office Space / Bolton” on your booty, Mr. Fax.
Elusively skulking from workstation to workstation, the Scotto-yeti wanders into the underbrush of into the server-room, to be sure all is well in his electrical glade and plasti-formed work grotto.
The other nearby fauna are often nearby, and show little to no fear of wandering into our quiet ursine anthropoid’s foraging zone. Amongst them are any number of beasties, ranging from the pleasanty quiet and unassuming V-mouse to the loud, peevish clucking of a Rhode Island hen, scratching at the the gound and generally making a mess. Fortunately the buttergnome and the pebble-kicking wombat are occupied elsewhere lately. I wonder what it’d take to bring a little red monkee into the grotto?
