I spent hours and hours in the garage (with a space heater) trying to pack and carefully arrange the Christmas boxes. We had cleared out some stuff, like an old bed, that had been in the back of the garage with that stuff, but somehow everything had sort of spread out to take over the space. I moved lots of boxes around. Mark eventually helped, but he keeps saying he's working on a story for work. I think it looks more like he's watching football, but what-evs. Just gives me a chance to sneak some of his hideous holiday faves into the trash bin.
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Sometimes it's hard to get things done on the computer when I have to contend with this:
She also tries her darnedest to lick my hands and face and drools all over the keyboard. As a matter of fact, I just had to get a tissue and sop up the drool puddles on the "i" and "n" keys.
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