Avoiding black cats, ladders and mirrors

I did our income taxes this morning, all the while mulling over how I'd like to spend what I thought would be a modest refund - and was shocked to find that instead we will be forced to fork over a princely sum (in multiples of THOUSANDS of dollars) to the federal government this year. *Sigh* so much for running off to Belgium this spring for vacation. The irony of the lack of the pitter patter of little deductions is not lost on me.

Times like this make it so hard to be a good democrat. I have no idea how the hell this happened, especially considering that I apparently OVERPAID Social Security by close to $900 this year.

I haven't had the courage to do our state or local tax returns yet.

The stress apparently made my nose start gushing blood - which I didn't notice or feel until my pretty green turtleneck was thoroughly drenched. I felt the wetness, and looked down to see that my left breast in all its bloody carnage and realized I had no idea where the blood was coming from. Freaking out, I jumped up to grab the box of kleenex off the back of desk, and promptly upset my glass of tea into my lap - onto my suede skirt - and manage somehow to simultaneously snag my stockings on the underside of the desk - rendering an enormous runner.

My mother in law called to say that she hasn't started packing yet, and hasn't called a mover - even though we're supposed to be moving in less than a week. Less than seven days. Six even.

I hang up with her to rifle through the phone book to find a mover, and Michael calls to tell me that the cat has decided that he doesn't approve of the moving and has voiced his objections by crapping all over the boxes sitting in our living room floor. Yes. This is the same cat who gave us this lovely experience the last time we moved.

Oh, and CD1 - in case you're wondering.

Good times... good times.

I hope your day is shaping up better than mine.