My dear, sweet wife (who is sick as a dog right now) is sending me out to the garage to finish the final aspect of packing the house for the big move. (If you're not familiar with the big move, check here, and here).
Merrin was up all night with the flu. How do I know she was up all night? Well, we're married and –as all you married people know– you always know when your spouse is up all night. For my sake, she knows I'm trying to fight off getting sick so she headed to the guest bedroom at about 6am.
Meanwhile, like I said, I'm headed to the garage. So picture me, fighting off getting sick, out in the garage (43 degrees) packing. That's me. That's where I'll be. If you want to help me pack, stop on by.