Once you've reached 10 consecutive days of doing anything, then you've got a nice streak going. Here I am at the eleventh day with no end in sight for this week.
Tonight Mrs. Viper and I need to finish packing, come hell or high water. Although she is reeling from a nasty sickness from one of her filthy, germ-infested students, my lovely wife was planning to spend the day loading up more boxes until she passes out from exhaustion.
Tomorrow we get to start moving, which actually means, "Let's go buy some paint and paint the bedrooms." OK, dear, as you wish.
Thursday will be a preliminary move-in day with boxes that fit in the car and building the furniture we bought at IKEA so the new mattress has a place to be delivered Friday.
Friday I'm picking up the moving truck and will likely start loading it that night.
Saturday will be full-on "Everything must go" moving, with the recruits arriving at 9 a.m. to finish the job.
Sunday we're having some family over to unload boxes and put things in the right places.
Do you see any running in that schedule? We'll have a 16-day runless streak by week's end. How much longer can it go before I finally get back out there? Will there be snow on the ground?