My hormones
are on the fritz.
I’m losing
it.
Thank God my
CPA takes care of the
Finances.
What a yuppie,
what a joke
To have a
complex about not having any good complexes.
I am a
paradox of neuroses.
No. I’m a
woman.
I wish taxes
could occupy my mind.
Spend the
weekend preparing my return.
His return.
Your return.
Our return.
To normalcy?
Who knows?
Who cares?
Certainly
not the Tax Man.
But he gave
us three more days.
And for
that, I’m grateful.
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