Andy's Army | Friday, April 4, 2025

Friday, April 4, 2025 – Day 234

Friday, April 4, 2025

Good morning and welcome to the weekend!

First, a big thank you to everyone who caught my mistake about The Masters weekend. For weeks, I had it locked in my head that it was this weekend, and never once did I think to double-check. Classic move. The good news? My weekend just opened up. The bad news? I no longer have a valid excuse to put off doing the last of family taxes (including my own). I always go for the easy ones first—get those done and feel productive while conveniently ignoring the ones that require actual effort.

These Tuesday and Thursday tax days have been wiping me out. I spend way too much time on my feet, running back and forth to the printer like an overworked office intern. My new strategy? Print everything I can early and move on to other tasks. This works… for about an hour. During that golden window, some kind soul usually grabs my printouts and brings them over. But once the office gets busy, I’m on my own. I’ve considered sending the clients themselves to pick up their own documents, but then I run the risk of them spotting someone else’s return, and that could spark a whole mess of trouble. You don’t want to see a bunch of 75-year-olds get riled up over each other’s deductions. Next thing you know, canes are swinging, and I have to step in with my brass eagle cane—sharp beak and all—to break up the melee. So, instead, I just keep hauling myself to the printer, one weary step at a time.

By the time I get home, my energy conservation plan is completely shot. It’s the same routine every tax day. But hey—only two more to go, and then it’s all over on April 10.

The Battle of the Tax Shirt Tuesday night, after collapsing on the couch and filing the last of the day’s returns, I settled in for some Yellowstone before bed. This means Cindy disappears upstairs to watch her beloved Hallmark movies. No complaints—she loves her predictable, feel-good endings, and I, on the other hand, need at least a few bullets flying to keep me entertained. I’m nearing the end of season 5 so I’ll have to find another similar series to entertain me in the evening.

It never fails, when I’m this tired, I find myself taking a cat nap. When I do wake up and call it, I turn off all the lights and start the slow, painful climb upstairs (which, is becoming more of a challenge each night) Most nights, Cindy is still awake and helps me undress—ooh la la—because I can’t seem to escape my prison-gray, button-up tax shirt on my own.

But on this particular night, Cindy was already fast asleep. That meant I had to fend for myself.

I attempted the first button… and immediately knew I was doomed. I couldn’t even undo one, let alone all five. That’s when I made an executive decision: If this shirt wasn’t coming off the right way, then it was coming off the dramatic way. With a heroic rip, I sent buttons flying across the room. For a brief moment, I felt powerful—like the Hulk, well not really like the Hulk, but I was pleased that was capable of ripping the buttons off. The buttons on the floor? That was a problem for the morning

Last night, faced with the same dilemma, I decided to take a different approach: I surrendered. Rather than pop another round of buttons, I simply waved the white flag, left the shirt on, and went to bed. At this rate, I think my button-down shirt days are officially numbered.

For now, I’m still able to manage my pants buttons, but it’s taking a little longer each night. I don’t see myself ripping those buttons off—pretty sure I never had the strength for that.

My future wardrobe trajectory is looking grim: buttoned pants for as long as possible, then magnet buttons, and finally… elastic waistbands. I shudder at the thought. I’ve spent years openly judging people who wear lounge wear and pajama pants in public. If you ever see me walking into Walmart in full-on athletic pants, just put a fork in me—I’m done.

License Plate Debate While driving home last night, Cindy and I spotted a car with the license plate “Gender 2” (photo attached). Now, I love a good cryptic plate, so naturally, I tried to decipher the message. My first thought? The driver was making a statement that there are only two genders. Cindy, however, had a different take—she thought it meant the person identified with multiple genders. We agreed to disagree.

So now, I’m throwing it out to the group—what’s your interpretation? I created a one question survey for your response. If everything works…you should see it attached at the bottom of this post.

Have a great weekend.

Love you guys! ❤️