As I was leaving for lunch the other day, I was greeted by Docta Chilay, the new sales manager, in the parking lot. Seems Twatwaffle and he were going house hunting together. He doesn't start until August 1st, but I've already been stressin' over it. Practicing being quiet and professional, saying "Good Morning" instead of "Ugh. Bleh. Crap," imagining welcoming him to the company, etc. When he and TW returned to the office, he stopped by to say hi and asked if I knew of any places to lease.
"Dang! I've got an old RV you can live in. Ain't got no plumbing but we can prolly find you a bucket."
And so once again, mouth has opened before brain has had a chance to engage. The really scary part? When they left again, he kept asking TW why he couldn't just live in my RV.
City dude with the two Pomeranians ended up leasing a cabin up by where Aunt Moses used to live.
Me: "But Twatwaffle.. has he ever even lived in the country? That's in THE WOODS. A BEAR WILL EAT THE PUPPIES."
TW: "He said he's always wanted to live in the woods."
Me: "Does he understand that even IN THE CITY LIMITS bears will come in to your yard. IN THE WOODS you are in theirs????"
TW: "Shut up. He'll figure it out eventually. Oh and, since you've got 4 wheel drive, you'll be going to fetch him in the snow."
Me: "Oh hell to the no I will not."
And so it begins.