Ghost Flusters

Okay, so I am sitting at work wallowing in self-pity and caffeine, when my co-worker Lisa walks by our former sports director's office, jumps back a little, spills her coffee, and announces that she just saw Joe at his desk. Holy crap! Joe died last week, his funeral was last Friday, and we had an on-air memorial for him on Monday. This is so like Joe. He worked for the station for 27 years and rarely missed work unless in intensive care. He had diabetes and wasn't very good at eating properly or regulating his sugar levels. We once caught him snarfing down a large cream-filled donut (his second that morning), and he assured us that it was fine, because he was drinking water with it. WTF!! That doesn't even make sense - unless you're Joe. He was like a high functioning rainman with a license and a microphone. He wrote sticky notes to himself constantly and stuck them all over the walls. Things like "if you don't know something, ask", or "don't touch red button on back computer", but the kicker was - he signed them! "Don't hit keyboard if computer is locked up --- signed Joe". Funny shit, people. I'm glad to know he is still here, but if he starts singing karaoke (which was also a constant in the office), I'm calling a priest. The picture below is my "Ode to Joe", as he also had a female super-hero fetish (don't ask).