I'm out of the garage!

Finally. After four days of sitting with an air compressor and countless other pieces of machinery at my back (because it's a working garage, after all, not just a place to park vehicles); four days of being bombarded by flies and buffeted by the chilly breezes that often whirled through the door; four days of listening to people tell me their life stories (and being truly creeped out by a lone man named Bob from Appleton who'd found Jesus -- but where, he didn't say); four days of crossing t...