While remembering all of the fun that I had on Day One, including a thrilling two-color nail stamp…

On the third day, I got sick.

I’m not sure if it was an errant germ from my Wednesday (Day T-1) excursion to the casino

Wheeee! Penny machine winnings!

or the ancient dust from that desk but I started sneezing at the end of Day Two.

After a night of barely any sleep – one stretch of “AWAKE” had me up from 2:30am until 4:30am – and a tissue count of over 24*, I’d decided that I wasn’t going to attempt to head back to Dad’s, for another dust-filled day.

I bugged out of the hotel and high-tailed it home, never stopping at the usual “Last Starbucks before the NY bridges” or picking up anything for dinner.

Wes was thrilled to see me

I know he was just keeping himself warm but I can pretend he missed me.

But his response to “Can’t you make me some chicken soup?” was not a surprise.

So I cleared up my car

Sometimes even tissues can be pretty...look, but don't touch 'em

and that brings us full circle to

It's always been you, Joe.

*I’m very surprised that no one complained about the “fog horn” of my all-night-long, constant nose blowing.