At the medical school where I work, the overwhelming smell of formaldehyde and stacks of 7-foot long boxes only means one thing - a new shipment of cadavers. It's a great smell to be greeted by on my way to lunch.

Foliage is coming down faster than a whore on Saturday night. So far I have 28 30-gallon bags of leaves. If you don't math, that's 840 freakin' gallons. This is just the first pass through the back yard, and it's already covered again. I haven't even started on the front yard. The city only picks up once a season, so right now all those gallons are hanging out in my garage and taking up more room than my SUV. (I have to disclose that Mom bagged 18 of them on her own while everyone else was painting.)