I spent a lot of this weekend messing around with taxes. We got copies of some key missing paperwork last week, and I made headway through the snarl of declaring a lump-sum Soc Sec payment, an IRA distribution from my M-I-L, why we have two Mortgage Interest forms (oh yeah—we refinanced last year. D'OH!), and then ground to a halt over where and how to report a 2009 repayment of Disability income that was reported as income in 2008. That resulted in some quality time with the IRS today:


I've got my answers now (and it was a lot of work for the IRS agent to figure it out, so I don't feel so bad). I'll be trying to shoehorn the finishing touches in tonight between House, 24, and Castle (L&O: Classic via DVR).

I haven't done much writing lately, and one of the main reasons (I hate admitting this) is because I let myself get sucked back into the Spider Solitaire PC game while on Spring Break. Before my other computer died, I wound up deleting all "easy" access to it and saving it in a buried part of my "Temp" folder— it was that bad.

Guess what I'll be doing after I post this? I've got work to finish, I have to bike in the garage (more rain—whee), and the addiction is obviously out of control.

Speaking of which, since Dead Like Me is my current garage-viewing... I'd forgotten how disturbingly weird Crystal is. The germ warfare is bad enough, but the combination of the beehive and '50s glasses and the dead-eyed stare really gets to you. I still hate Daisy Adair every bit as much as the first time around, and still have a soft spot for Mason even though he's an idiot. I hadn't noticed before that Rube is living-but-not-living in his apartment, with the dust clothes over all the furniture. Also, who prepares gourmet meals on a hotplate? And I still pity Joy Lass for having the children she did. I can't help but think that part of her personality was shaped by her incredibly prickly and unloving daughters (and her own absentee mother). She's a pill, but I can understand how she got that way. :0