I haven’t had much to post this week: my cold is stymying any attempt to get out on the road bike and have adventures or even train. I have run a lot of errands on the pretty girly bike, and disgusted a lot of high school juniors with how much my nose is running.

Today’s big task was laundry, which I always try to fool myself into thinking is a workout because it involves lifting, carrying, and climbing. It also involves precise timing so it’s not left out so long that it annoys the neighbors – or worse, someone cuts in to your pre-planned agenda – and yet, who wants to stand around in the laundry room waiting for the spin cycle to run itself out? I also need to protect the piles of sorted laundry on the bathroom floor from Buddy, who views the world as one gigantic litterbox these days. After I toss in the last load, colored linens, many of which have acquired a lilac hue thanks to Wednesday’s hair color experiment, I start my taxes.

This is how you know I’m a math nerd: laundry is hard, taxes are easy. My 1040 – with itemized deductions – takes less time than sheets and towels.

Even better, while I’m working, archy climbs up on the table and settles on my paperwork.


He doesn’t look good these days – this picture hides the fact that he resembles a skeleton that swallowed a cantaloupe – and after a brief appearance for food and meds when I got up, he’d spent the rest of the morning hidden in my closet, which always depresses me a little. But he leapt on the table with such zeal, I thought he was his sister, and that cheered me up immensely. Even more than realizing I was due a four-figure refund.

I know we don’t have many days left. I don’t just mean me and archy, I mean all of us. We’re all going to die.

Death and taxes are inevitable, but while I’m on this side of judgment day and April 15, i’m going to try to cherish what I have instead of mourning its imminent demise.