It's tax time.
This means my avoidance skills are currently being used at their highest capacity. I am absolutely allergic to book work. It has been the bane of my existence since starting my small business in 1995; the albatross around my neck every single spring for 20 years. By now you'd think I'd have overcome, put into place a system that helps me deal with it or even hired someone to look after it...but, no. I avoid it like the bubonic plague every single year, put it so far out of my mind that is all but forgotten until Mr. Purpleboots starts reminding me.
Here we are again, crunch time. A years worth of paperwork needs done and receipts are scattered in every nook and cranny of this cluttered house of mine. The tax form software sits under a layer of dust on the desk waiting, taunting.
But there was other madness on my mind. A pot of brown holy water that required my full attention, a boxing class that couldn't be excused again, a shelf of novels that needed immediate thinning and a floor full of Tula Pinks insanity that begged for three final seams.
|Months of grumbling came to an abrupt halt yesterday.|
Finally, a finish! A little avoidance goes a long way.
|Today's finish has been brought to you by |
the letters C-R and A...and by the number 31.
Oh, and in case you wondered...I did manage to haphazardly compile and do a preliminary sift & sort for the dreaded paperwork marathon that lies ahead this week. I also managed to drink some wine, cook dinner and watch some Netflix.
Not half bad for a days avoidance, eh? I think I'll call the day a success.