Wednesday 16 January 2008

Death and taxes.

    I'm gonna miss you
    I'm gonna miss you when you're gone
    She says I love you
    I'm gonna miss hearing your song


Today was a whirlwind of caught breath, a new diner to try out, a new CD to spin, some new clothes to break in, a few haphazard kisses, some one-year rule reminders, perogies by the potload and taxes, which have to be filed for the deceased whether you're on board with that or not. Thankfully I know three accountants, two of which I'm even speaking to.

I had my teeth investigated, I sold the motorcycle, making John the Happiest Person Alive and I agreed to give up Friday night plans of sitting in the bathtub feeling sorry for myself in exchange for good seats at the hockey game, which is so small-community there are no tickets to buy but if you can help fill the stands it's always appreciated. I will bring eight people and then feed them afterwards. Ben will eat a whole pizza by himself and still be invisible when he turns sideways.

Bridget, not so much these days. :)

Have a lovely night.