It is wise to remember that there are worse things than housemates who mysteriously hoard flatware, fail to clean the bathroom, or have no concept of putting away dishes once they're dry.
The departure this week of what can only be described as a gaggle of (now-former) co-workers has left me a bit wistful for the days when we all worked in a converted garage and still got all the free Odwalla we could drink (or leave, caps on, on desktops over the weekend in uninentional scientific experiments) and had people like Josh around as a steady source of entertainment. It was brain-melting work, and the pay was laughable, but the whole experience wound up being the sort of thing that, in retrospect, seems deceptively pleasant and simple and desirable.
That's probably just corporate burnout talking. But it is hard to watch good people walk out of your life.