Saturday, March 24, 2018


This weekend, Jay and I prepared our taxes, and I am happy to report: we survived.

My head did not explode from confusion; I did not pass out from boredom; I did not run out the door into the great, sunny world whenever I was tempted (ten zillion times); and our marriage is still intact.

After we filled out the last form, we fell into each other's arms and said, "Never again." At least, not until next March.

And then we made grand plans to do the opposite of taxes: we would have fun running around at the beach. We hauled 8 volleyballs, a frisbee, smash ball, and plenty of fluids down to the beach, and then we got out of the car, walked to my favorite cove, and collapsed in the sand where we laid for almost two hours.

Taxes are hard, man.

And that is pretty much all I have to say. I just wanted to remind you: we can do hard things.

Happy, glorious Tax Season, friends.

I'm cheering for ya,

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