FYI, that's me.
BrownsFan caught a glimpse of me when I walked past her office this morning and demanded that I come back and show her what I was wearing, as if this was something I needed to be told. "It's the first day!" I announced, even though everyone knew from my outfit what day it was. Everyone but one person, that is. "It's the first day of the 40 Days of Christmas!"
"The 40 Days of Christmas?" asked the new guy incredulously. "It seems like it's early for that. It's not even Thanksgiving."
"It isn't. It's the 40 Days. It's a real thing. I didn't even make it up."
"There's a website," BrownsFan added.
At this point, COO looked up from his desk at me, so I curtsied. He shook his head at me and addressed new guy. "I'm glad you're getting to see this now, before you've had a chance to work together," he said. "I don't want you to think that you caused it somehow. She's always like this."
BrownsFan went on to explain to him that soon I would start dressing in appliqued corduroy dresses with snowmen on them like a kindergarten teacher and needlework shirts that I designed and stitched myself because I'm fucking crafty like that (she did not say "because she's fucking crafty like that."). He looked slightly baffled. There is no way he's prepared.
I need to go tree shopping for my office this weekend. I think I can probably keep it down to two trees if I choose the ornaments carefully and fill in the blank spaces on the countertop with nutcrackers and Santas, maybe a little train. And a wreath, my door will need a wreath, certainly. Oh and some thick red ribbon I can wrap around that weird diagonal airvent to make it look like a massive candy cane. They really should never have given me so much space.