So while I've been battling the virus from hell with the boys, Nolan has been out of town.  I'm not complaining,  I wouldn't have done anything differently, anyway.  However, he said he would be back "early Sunday morning" to get on the road for Denver.  I got up early to make sure everything was set for the housesitter, and finished getting everything packed (all the while achy and feverish) and he is still not home.

It's not early, and in an hour, it will not be morning.

I love my husband.  But time is fluid for him.  He's never on time, and refuses to wear a watch.  Say's "I'm not bound by man's time."

 Ironically, he's at a men's retreat.  I hope he comes back all filled up and it spills out onto me.  I could use a little, you know?

I'm out of everything.  Ibuprofen, tylenol, cough syrup, milk, and swiffer pads.  And fabric softener.  The purple kind.

Yes, swiffer pads are a necessity.  I have a dog, and I'm trying to sell the house.

Okay.  Done griping.  Have a lovely Sunday, all. 

UPDATE:  We didn't go.  Thank GOD.  I feel awful.