Taxes cast a bit of a shadow on my weekend. It would be easier if I understood what was going on, had all the correct forms, and, frankly, cared. As it was my major achievement this weekend was a headache. A certifiable world class record setting wine and chocolate craving headache. A traffic stopping headache, in the brain that is, or in the location where a brain should be if I had managed to pull off the feat of finishing my taxes. I didn't. I haven't. I face this beautiful monday with ibuprofen bottle depleted and desire to catch a plane. (To anywhere. And, I don't like to fly.)
Here's two photos, one of the "shadow," and one of Ms Bird whose best counsel is, when at loss scarf some catnip then puke.
