Cake

Bleh made a cake and brought it to the office to share. Did I have any? Hell no! She's not a handwasher, remember?

The Dinner Party

Bleh has invited all of her coworkers (including yours truly) to her house for a dinner party. Now, there's no way I'm going to eat anything Ms. No-Handwashing makes, much less drive all the way out to the boonies to do it. I just haven't figured out how to "respectfully decline" the invitation without A) having to talk to Bleh for more than 30 seconds, B) avoiding her inevitable line of interrogation of why I cannot attend her very important dinner, and/or C) vomit in my mouth.

Yes, part of me is deadly curious to see the cave this woman and her crazy family live in, but all the effort in getting there, much less all the booze I'd have to consume to stay socially docile are really pulling down the "con" column of this pro/con dilemma.

Don't worry, Readers. I'll let you know what happens either way.

A Pift is just a Pift

Reason #463 it's a bad idea to have a bathroom inside the office:

Bleh's farts are clearly audible from 20 feet away. Eww.

There is a silver lining however! She actually washed her hands! (Or, at least she turned the faucet on.) To top things off, she's wearing her best "mom khakis" featuring a painful looking wedgie. Thankfully we have a long holiday weekend. Only 6 more hours to go...

I don't have a title for this post -- I'm too busy chuckling to myself.

Bleh's been cornered by the chatty cleaning lady for the past 20 minutes. This is hilarious because the cleaning lady, while a sweet gal, is the kind of person who answers a simple "How are you?" with her laundry list of life problems. So you never ask the cleaning lady how she's doing -- you just say hello, smile, and keep walking unless you want to get an earful about her ailments, children, or whatever minutia she's got on the brain that day.

Bleh doesn't like Cleaning Lady. In fact, she's asked me to "call her" so she'd have an excuse to stop talking to CL. Here's the funny part -- I'm over here typing and not calling...

I guess everyone has a Bleh. Even Bleh.

UPDATE: Bleh just went to the restroom. She didn't wash her hands. Eww.

What's going on in there?

Lately Bleh has been entering the restroom, closing the door, then emerging 30 seconds or so later. No toilet flush (nobody can pee that fast anyway), no sink being turned on, just the lightswitch. It's very odd. What is she doing in there?

Longtime readers will note that she's still not washing her hands.

Okay, four times is a pattern

4:17pm: Bleh goes to bathroom. Did not wash her hands. Again.

Today's Bathroom Update

2:48pm: Bleh went to bathroom. Did not wash hands.

I'm gonna be sick

No, really. Bleh just went to the restroom, and did not wash her hands. How do I know? The bathroom is in our office and I heard her flush then she opened the door and walked toward the kitchenette. No squeaky faucet turn, no water noise. Nothin'.

Sure, that's kinda gross. But it gets worse.

She then served some of her Seder dish (the same one she's been yappin' about all morning and I've been writing about) WITH THE SAME TOILET HANDS she didn't just wash. Oh, god. I ate some of that Seder shit this morning myself. Now I'm having nightmare visions of her kitchen at home and how she didn't wash her hands there either.

Why, Yahweh? WHY?

I'm gonna go barf now.

UPDATE: Okay, you thought I was just being paranoid when I said Bleh didn't wash her hands after using the office bathroom. Well, she just went again and again, she did NOT wash her hands! EWW! I will never eat anything she brings to this office ever again. Ever.