Last nights sleep kept getting interrupted by the smoke alarm with a battery issue. When it would occasionally beep no one was awake enough to turn on a light and get on a chair to turn it off. Finally about 4 am Aunt Jean took a broom and beat it to death.
Dwight thinks it's cold...
We didn't get started on the job until 10:30 am because it was too cold to get out of bed. It was 32 degrees out and I must admit that it really is cold. We started to nail down the plywood deck but my nailer wouldn't punch the nails in but half way. I figured it was broke so we got out the other one and it didn't do any better.
...I'm just pretending it's cold!
Dwight decided that it was the cold that was affecting the tools. As we contemplated our next move a dim bulb flickered to life above our head. Did anyone turn on the compressor? The flooring continued on smoothly after that.