We all know that glory is fleeting in this administration. But recent events have been a true wake-up call to those of us who too often take our White House colleagues for granted. They say tragedies come in threes; but you never expect them to happen so close together, or so close to home.

It all started 10 days ago, when we lost our beloved Sean Spicer: a hot-headed condescending little potato affectionately known to all as “Spicey.” For nearly four months, Spicey’s uniquely defensive and incoherent style of communication made him the perfect vessel for delivering the President’s uniquely defensive and incoherent message. We miss you, Spicey. And we continue to wish cancer upon Melissa McCarthy every day in your memory.

Less than a week later, Reince Priebus, our very own Chief of Staff, was fired by the President via Twitter. “Prancer” selflessly sacrificed his eternal soul, and the GOP, to serve his President faithfully to the best of his severely limited abilities.

And finally, today, Director of Communications Anthony Scaramucci, the man who replaced Spicey just 10 days ago, was taken from us far too soon. Mooch: though we barely knew you, I think I speak for everyone when I say that you performed your duties with a sophistication, maturity and eloquence worthy of the President himself.

I know what you’re thinking: Shouldn’t we all have seen this coming? After Yates, Flynn, Deare, Walsh, Comey, McFarland, and countless others, shouldn’t we by now have become numb to the risk of losing our comrades on any given day, at a moment’s notice? My answer is a resounding “No.” I say such cynical sentiments have no place in this administration. I choose to believe that my brothers and sisters-in-arms will still be there when I arrive for work in the morning. But just in case they aren’t, we should all remember to tell them how much they mean to us every single day.