Up, caffeinated, and sheveled. Off to heave. It’s 16 degrees Ferret Height(-8.889 Centipedes) out. Spot knocked all the rubber ducks off my desk, had Screaming Tuxedo Zoomies, and has collapsed on the kitchen tile to cool off and recharge.
I-40?
Well a late start means driving on black ice while surrounded by a greater number of idiots than usual, so…
Yes.
Reminds me of the time I had Lucrezia D. Hell Catt and Maggie Wonderbeagle on the bed with me and I was petting both. They locked eyes, growling and fur raising commenced, and I stopped petting, threw my hands up, and started screaming “NOT THE FACE, NOT THE FACE!”
“There’s no point in being a grown up if you can’t be childish sometimes.” - The Fourth Doctor
Much like Medieval monks.
Considering the weather so far, if Phil sees his shadow it will be the wurst case scenario.