…this happened very quietly behind me. I should’ve realized that she was being awfully sweet and calm for a suspicious amount of time. Newman’s Own is pasteurized, right? Ack.
Meanwhile, Yoda-Olive hid in fear that I’d think she was the naughty Shove that pulled apart the trash.
This is only funny/tolerable when I imagine that I could be in an office having clients breathing down my neck. Personally, I prefer the smell of three-day-old salad dressing. The pay ain’t so great, but the benefits are out of this world. :)