Well, folks, it's come to this: Daryl is moving out.

Just his office, but still, he's getting the boot. It's weird, in the five years we've owned this place he's worked from home, and now he has a separate place of work.

There's going to be some adjusting. I can't just open his office door and ask him a questions. I have to call him or message him now. No more Daily Show lunch breaks. And he's already forgotten to take his lunch. Twice. And now he calls me to pick him up from work when he's feeling pooped instead of the other way around.

But, his old office will be the baby's room and I'm kinda hoping to sneak some of my craft stuff in there, too. I was feeling all crazy ambitious, like we should paint the walls and "freshen" it up but then reality (and this cold) set in and now I'm just laughing at Corrie of two weeks ago who thought picking paint and all that jazz was a good idea.

Sorry, Baby, you get white walls. Your own room, but white walls.