Bug

There is this bug.

Well, OK, I'm not sure if it's always the same bug. It's about half the size of a dime, brown, with beetle wings and thin articulated legs. Every few months, I look up from my computer, and it's walking around on my desk. Very non-threatening sort of bug, clean lines, not slimy, a reasonably small number of legs so not millipede-creepy, moves deliberately so no dashing about, no pincers or stinger, just, you know, a bug.

I skootch it into a glass, cover the glass with an envelope I haven't gotten around to recycling yet, and walk it a couple doors down the hall to the staircase which has outdoors access, and shake it out of the glass. It tumbles a few feet, then spreads its wings and buzzes gently off into the air.

I am moderately interested in knowing what kind of bug it is and extremely interested in knowing how it gets into my apartment. I have no unscreened windows, and it's much bigger than the openings in the screen mesh  on the windows that I can crank a few inches to get fresh air. If it had only visited once, I would think maybe it rode in on my jacket from outdoors. If there were a constant stream of the bug and his relatives, I'd think there was probably something Maintenance should plaster over somewhere. But one bug every few months, always on my desk walking around on the piles of paper, not the least bit secretive or even very imaginative. Never any trouble about getting it into the glass, no thrashing around while it's in there, just walking up the side of the glass until it falls onto its back to the bottom, at which point it gets upright and starts walking up the side again.

The next time the bug appears, maybe I'll take its picture and ask Bryan the gardener what it is. At least then I can call it by name as I walk it down the hall to the staircase.