The New Hires . . .

. . . started yesterday.

One of them already quit.

Knowing that we exist in one of the worst economic downturns that we'll experience in our lifetimes, and that someone would still wade in those waters than work your job - I'll be honest, it's a little disheartening.

It's like finding out that yours is the house that smells like soup.

There's a new girl that sits where Kirby once sat. All day I hear her complaining about the workstation. "Why is this keyboard sticking? Ew. There's food in here."

Earlier I helped get her phone set up. Everything he didn't take home was thrown out last week. But when I stepped foot within his cube walls, the smell came back like he was standing over my shoulder. Peering over to see what I was doing. The buttons on the phone and keyboard are all crunchy to the touch. A decent amount of force is needed to depress anything. Everything is smeared with something. Any notions I had of giving him a ring and checking out his place - passing the late afternoon with a beer and whatever anime he'd most likely throw on - out the window. If he kept his workspace like this, I can only imagine his home.

Not to say that we all don't miss him. I spend twenty-minutes of my day talking to someone who found out he was let go. I'm like his Puff Daddy. Singing my songs and collecting his tribute.

But seriously, the new girl they hired is completely worthless. I give her a month.