Today is the day that there is officially less than a month until Tax Day. What that ought to mean is that I'll go to Wal-Mart and buy TurboTax, figure out my taxes, and mail the government a big fat check.
What it will actually mean is that now I'll begin watching the calender with dread, knowing that I should be doing those things. Eventually, when my anxiety reaches critical mass, I'll do it. And it'll be so easy and quick that I'll wonder why I dragged my feet and put myself through all that stress.
How can you understand your own psychology and still fall victim to it??
It's also the Friday that preceeds my every-other-weekend with Lori, so we're looking around for some fun things to do with it. Maybe a day trip to Nashville or Memphis? I think it's going to be too cold to go fishing.....
Maybe we can go to Rural King!
Maybe...and this is almost too cool to contemplate...we could go to Rural King in Nashville!
I actually don't have any idea what's in Nashville besides the Grand Ole Opry and the Country Music Hall of Fame. I used to drive through it a lot when Carol was living in North Carolina and I was in Illinois, but I was somewhat focused on the goal, so I didn't stop to investigate much except the bathrooms on the highway.
But people go to Nashville, and we're people...ergo, we should go to Nashville. Maybe it's full of cool regional Nashville-y stuff, like sparkly electric guitars and ostrich boots...not that I've ever seen an ostrich in boots.
And yes, if all the other kids jumped off a bridge I would jump, Mom.