Good morning, all.
Wow! Yesterday was a beautiful day in Crystal Lake. Itâs nice to get these little teasers of summerâit reminds us that if we donât get our act together now, summer will show up unannounced, and weâll be left scrambling.
Iâve got plenty of loose ends to tie up. The whole e-bike situation, for example, is giving me a headache. I feel like Iâm fishing for an answer but keep I keep coming up empty, instead of making a clear decision.
Good morning to my friends, family, and others joining today.
More tax stories, boneheaded decisions (by me), and a couple of beers.
The long days of preparing taxes feel like a marathon. I must get up and down from my chair at least 20 times a day, whether to greet clients or (figuratively) run to the printer for tax documents. Iâm sure the mental aspect of it contributes to the fatigue as well.
Good morning, everyone.
Itâs another weekday that begins with a “T,” so it must be a tax day. Somehow, I think you’re as tired of this day as I am. I’ve certainly talked about it too much. Itâs been a great year, and Iâm so happy to be doing tax preparation, but I feel guilty telling people Iâll see them next year when I know thatâs not true. Sure, itâs only a white lie, but itâs still a lie.
Good morning! Boy oh boy, this tax stuff is wearing me out. Every evening, I get home, collapse onto the couch, and stay there like Iâve just run a marathonâexcept my only exercise has been dodging cranky clients all day. Weâre down to four sessions left, and this is the point where people start getting, letâs say, testy. Weâve been booked out for weeks, yet some folks waltz in like VIPs, demanding we squeeze them in.
Good morning, friends and family!
Life keeps moving forward, and Iâm doing my best to keep pace. Iâve been buried in tax paperwork longer than I probably should be, but at least I know the finish line is near. Looking back at last year, it was the month of May before I even picked up my first book of 2024. Reading has been my escapeâan adventure that can take me anywhere in the world.
Good morning! A new week begins, and with it, more progressâand setbacksâon the never-ending bathroom project. The towel bars are finally installed, so I can at least hang a towel like a civilized person. But the stair railing? Too short. We needed 16 feet and got 14. I thought maybe we could make it work, but the carpenter insists on doing it right. I appreciate his concern for safety, but if we donât get something installed soon, my early-morning, half-asleep descent might turn into an unplanned trip to the floor.
Good morning, all!
As I typed the number of days since my diagnosisâ222âit reminded me of the TV show Room 222 from the late â60s into the â70s. It was a comedy-drama set at Walt Whitman, a fictitious high school, in Los Angeles and tackled many of the same issues we still face todayâracial integration, the early LGBTQ movement, womenâs rights, politics, war, and other controversial topics.
I was in sixth grade when the show debuted, on my way to seventh grade at Jack Benny Junior High.
Good morning, and welcome to the weekend!
Friday Recap: A Busy Day That Wore Me Out
Physical Therapy (PT) I have a new PTâDiane. Maggie, who is eight months pregnant, had to pass me over to another therapist just in case she delivers early. Maggie is all smiles, all positivity, and wants her clients to enjoy therapy. Makes senseâyou want people to actually follow instructions between sessions.
Diane, on the other hand, is direct and to the point.
Good morning!! âď¸
Yesterdayâs post sparked some responses, so I wanted to add a few more details to complete the Chile earthquake story.
After the longest three minutes of terror in my life, everyone stayed outside, bracing for the aftershocks. I connected with two of my coworkers, but the third was nowhere to be seen. We waited over an hour, and he never came out. Not knowing if there was any internal damage to the hotel, we feared the worstâthat one of the floors had collapsed and he was pancake trapped or worse.
Good morning, everyone!
Just over 15 years ago, on January 10, 2010, a devastating 7.0 earthquake struck Haiti, lasting a mere 30 seconds but causing unimaginable destruction. I still remember watching the footageâentire buildings collapsing, people trapped between layers of concrete like a collapsed stack of pancakes. By the time the final count was in, around 250,000 lives had been lost. It was terrifying to see the rescue teams working against the clock and the relentless aftershocks, desperately trying to pull survivors from the rubble.
Good morning, everybody.
Tax day yesterday was refreshingly uneventfulâno wild returns, no last-minute disasters. A couple of people asked about my cane, and I gave them the honest answer: ALS. I managed to do so without an emotional flood, which was easier since the people asking didnât seem particularly emotional either.
One person didnât know what ALS was, and I wasnât eager to launch into the full breakdown of A-meeee-Ĺ-TROHHH-fic Lat-errr-all Scler-ĹĹ-sisâespecially considering my uncooperative tongue, which already struggles with saying âSocial Security.
Good morning, all!
Another Tuesday, another tax day. Itâs getting to the end. I wonder what surprises and emotions will surface today. Most days, I feel like Iâve got a fairly good handle on my emotions, and thenâWHAMâsomething or someone reaches deep into my heart and soul and triggers the tears. I never know when itâs coming, but Iâm grateful that I can mostly talk about my ALS these days without a total breakdown.
Good morning, everybody!
St. Patrickâs Day is finally here after a full weekend of celebrating the holiday, which means by now, youâre out of green outfits, tired of drinking green beer, had plenty of corned beef, orâif youâre one of the newly minted 21-year-oldsâprobably feeling a little green around the gills. SoâŚhappy St Patrickâs Day for the last time this year.
This day always brings a smile to my face. Ten years ago, I was forcibly retired from Mosaic.
Good morning, friends and family scattered throughout the world.
As I sit here on this quiet Sunday, Iâm grateful for a blank calendar. No appointments, no obligationsâjust a good day to chip away at family tax returns. I know, taxes arenât exactly thrilling, but for me, theyâve been oddly therapeutic. They require focus but not much physical effortâŚperfect for me.
When it comes to physical effort, thatâs a different story. My occupational therapist suggested I use one-pound weights for upper body exercises.
Good morning, everyone! Or, for those of you who I just learned read these posts late in the dayâgood night.
Yesterdayâs dentist visit went better than expected. Back in the day, I wasnât exactly a model flosser. My old hygienist never let me forget it, especially when my gums turned into a crime scene during cleanings. But when I started seeing Cindyâs dentist, Dr. Julie, I decided to step up my gameâmostly.
Good morning and Happy St. Patrickâs Day weekend! âď¸
We have an early dentist appointment this morning, and Iâm already bracing myself. I seriously considered making my last cleaning my last cleaningâmy teeth donât hurt, so why bother? But I like my dentist, Dr. Julie. Not the cleaning, just her. We always have a great âconversation,â which consists of her asking thoughtful questions while I respond with muffled grunts.
Dr. Julie: So, howâs tax season going?
Good morning, friends and family. The bathroom remodel should end todayâthough The plumber is coming after his regular union job to install all the fixtures in the bathroom and Iâm most excited about the bidet. Everything Iâve read says itâs a game changer for personal hygiene and independence, and frankly, Iâm all for anything that makes life easier.
That said, I have a complicated history with bidets. Nicole and Zack have one in their basement bathroom, and Iâve had a couple of incidentsâletâs just say, when you accidentally activate an unexpected Arctic blast, you wake up faster than with any cup of coffee.
Good morning, world!
Yesterday was another exhausting tax day. My âGod wink,â Jim, returned for his review. The moment we saw each other, we both smiled. A brief chat, a warm connectionâthen he sat with another counselor while I tried to refocus on my own client. But my mind kept drifting back to Jimâhis health struggles, his compassion for mine. When he finished, he made a point to come back, leaned in, and whispered, âKeep fighting and keep your spirits up.
Good morning, everyone.
Itâs another Tax Tuesday, which means I expect to see Jim, my new client from last Thursday, back to finish his return. Iâve thought about him often since we metâmaybe too often. A small, irrational part of me worries that his congenital heart failure might have taken him. But then I shake that off and remind myselfâheâs got the spirit of a âFighting Irishâ warrior. âď¸ Heâll be there, bright and early, with his wife, ready to tackle the numbers once again.
Day 209
Good morning, everyone! Up and at âem at 4:01 a.m. todayâback to business as usual. Good to know I donât have to play the “spring forward, fall back” game again for another 237 days. Seriously, can we all just agree to leave the clocks alone?
Yesterday, the moving crewâŚalso known as âfamily always has your backââŚarrived to help shuffle the big furniture back into the bedroom. Huge thanks to Mark, Barb, Donna, and Joe!