Unfortunately for me, she bears a striking resemblance to my friend Danielle. While I’m in the kitchen having a morning chat with other colleagues, and Marta comes waltzing in, my immediate thought is always “Oh my God, D! What are you doing here?! What’s wrong?!”
And it takes my brain a second or two to process this thought before I can recover and say “hello.” I’m sure that, while the gears are grinding away, I must look a complete dolt. Marta must think I’m slow.