Enough ageing now, kthx.
Apr. 9th, 2008 08:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mad_andyToday has not been a good day.
First, I had to pry Bandita away from Zico. They have done the deed, mated repeatedly so it was time for her to go home; they twined tails, Zico hissed and roared and were it not for the fact that snakes (apparently) do not form pair bonds, I would swear that they did not want to be parted.
Oh, and when I got home?
He's sitting in front of his heat mat looking as miserable as a snake can look. He's giving me the ophidian version of puppy eyes, I swear.
Also, at work today I had to clean out the caiman tank. No biggie, I like handling Mr Snappy and syphoning his tank is a breeze; however, the boss' obnoxious iguana is loose in the back room, and decided to make my life as difficult as possible.
First, he scrambled off his log and tried to jump to my shoulder so he could see what i was doing. Thus, one set of long, bloody scratches on my shoulder. Then he jumped to the stack of boxed cages behind me, scrambled up my shoulder, slid down my arm and SPLASH!
Into the open tank of rank water and caiman poo. He sploshed about happily in there making the most godawful mess while I roundly cursed him, then Chris came in and grabbed him, returned the smelly, wet monster to his log under his basking light.
I, now liberally coated with caiman shit and smelly green water, carried on cleaning the tank. The iguana waited until Chris had gone back to the shop, then hopped off his log, crossed the work surface, leaped onto my shoulder and climbed on my head.
Dripping a mixture of poo, water, grime, dust, dirt and general vileness all over me.
At this point I told the boss that either he stuck the damn ig somewhere it couldn't interfere with me, or I was going to break its fucking neck; said lizard was hastily ushered into the staff toilet and shut up there until Snappy's tank was nice and clean, refilled and reoccupied.
The iguana, restored to his cleaned perch under the basking light, looked smug.
I stomped off to the loo, cleaned up the mess left by the ig's brief occupancy, and examined myself in the little mirror on the door. I smelled and felt icky, but wanted to know if there were any major signs of the struggle on my face or neck, my shirt and trousers already being a writeoff.
And then the absolute topper.
I found my first grey hair.
OK ENOUGH OF THIS AGEING CRAP NOW KTHX.
*Sigh*
And now i have to go persuade a heartbroken bullsnake to eat, and have a nice long soak in a nice hot bubble bath.
Stop the world, I want to get off....
First, I had to pry Bandita away from Zico. They have done the deed, mated repeatedly so it was time for her to go home; they twined tails, Zico hissed and roared and were it not for the fact that snakes (apparently) do not form pair bonds, I would swear that they did not want to be parted.
Oh, and when I got home?
He's sitting in front of his heat mat looking as miserable as a snake can look. He's giving me the ophidian version of puppy eyes, I swear.
Also, at work today I had to clean out the caiman tank. No biggie, I like handling Mr Snappy and syphoning his tank is a breeze; however, the boss' obnoxious iguana is loose in the back room, and decided to make my life as difficult as possible.
First, he scrambled off his log and tried to jump to my shoulder so he could see what i was doing. Thus, one set of long, bloody scratches on my shoulder. Then he jumped to the stack of boxed cages behind me, scrambled up my shoulder, slid down my arm and SPLASH!
Into the open tank of rank water and caiman poo. He sploshed about happily in there making the most godawful mess while I roundly cursed him, then Chris came in and grabbed him, returned the smelly, wet monster to his log under his basking light.
I, now liberally coated with caiman shit and smelly green water, carried on cleaning the tank. The iguana waited until Chris had gone back to the shop, then hopped off his log, crossed the work surface, leaped onto my shoulder and climbed on my head.
Dripping a mixture of poo, water, grime, dust, dirt and general vileness all over me.
At this point I told the boss that either he stuck the damn ig somewhere it couldn't interfere with me, or I was going to break its fucking neck; said lizard was hastily ushered into the staff toilet and shut up there until Snappy's tank was nice and clean, refilled and reoccupied.
The iguana, restored to his cleaned perch under the basking light, looked smug.
I stomped off to the loo, cleaned up the mess left by the ig's brief occupancy, and examined myself in the little mirror on the door. I smelled and felt icky, but wanted to know if there were any major signs of the struggle on my face or neck, my shirt and trousers already being a writeoff.
And then the absolute topper.
I found my first grey hair.
OK ENOUGH OF THIS AGEING CRAP NOW KTHX.
*Sigh*
And now i have to go persuade a heartbroken bullsnake to eat, and have a nice long soak in a nice hot bubble bath.
Stop the world, I want to get off....
