Well, it took about six hours over the weekend, a cricked neck from stress, three crying episodes and one Drama Queen meltdown (“I just don’t have a lot of resources right now,” I mewled), but my taxes are done. Quicktax is the way forward!
I’m not getting a return or anything, and have to give the Government ninetysomething bucks for the traumatic experience. But this is the first year in a long time when I made enough that I didn’t qualify for a return, so I guess that evens out. Most importantly, I learned that I could totally do my taxes by myself.
Plus, when I was done, both yesterday and today, I had time to go out into the garden. I planted sunchokes and peas and made a little vegetable patch in the side yard. I did a little weeding, got the recycling taken care of, and had some pizza. Last night I got a little drunk and giggly at Erin’s.
Right now, E is nodding off on the couch beside me, and I’m off to google how to grow broccoli. All in all, it could have been a much worse weekend.