I'm building a fire in a fireplace. The floor in the living room is a mess, wood, sawdust, papers, etc. I put it in the fireplace. I get a fire going. It's snowing outside. I'm proud that I got the fire going when no one's around to rescue me if I blow it. Smoke comes out into the room. I fix that. The fire starts to die out. I pull several old logs from previous fires. They still have coals, red hot, and help get this fire burning. I notice it's nearing 8 o'clock. I'm supposed to be back at work for the evening shift. I don't want to leave. I excuse myself because it's snowing. I feel like I'm playing hookey. I go out for more wood. My bathroom is in another building. It's a long walk.