I almost bundled up to go outside for my fourth shoveling of the storm, but I decided that it can wait until tomorrow. The snow just keeps piling up; 14 inches is a lot of snow. Luckily, my Wisconsin roots have prepared me for this sort of thing.

That's where my quirky obsession with shoveling developed. I know that it's supposed to be a chore, but I look forward to it. Perhaps my parents tricked me into enjoying it; I remember jumping out of bed to get outside before my mom had shoveled all the good stuff without me.

When I moved into this apartment in June, I noticed right away that there was a shovel in our seedy little entryway. And with only three apts in the building, I knew that shoveling duties would be up to me. Nobody's going to balk at that.

So I'm a little off... get over it.