It’s tax time again. That means I’m facing the sins of 2017 head-on.
So… yeah… I had my confession with my accountant this morning, and it went reasonably well.
I haven’t been too bad a girl in 2017… REALLY… honestly….
While adding up my receipts, I came across a few that were related to Phil. (I always write names on my receipts at the time so I don’t have to wonder months later why they’re relevant.) For some cruel reason the Phil pile was the pile that kept adding up incorrectly, so I had to count it three times. I didn’t break down crying. I didn’t lose my mind… but if I’m being honest with myself and you, it was a little sad when it set in that those
receipts memories are all things of the past.
Phil’s name won’t show up on a receipt in 2018 — or any year in the future… because THE STUPID FUCKING DICKHEAD IS DEAD.
I was maudlin for a minute…
And I was mad. (I
probably still am.)
But, since life is about picking yourself up and moving on, I’m going to eat my CPK salad, drink a glass of wine, and be glad I have all kinds of amazing people in my life.
They are everything.
Okay, that’s all.