I’m feeling pretty good right now, all things considered. I’m relaxing comfortably on the daybed in my office, with my heavy faux fur over my legs, listening to Coldplay, drinking a hot cup of tea. Both children are napping, so the house is quiet. My husband just got home. Soon he’ll come up here and make me laugh about something, I just know it.

Right now I have only a few worries, some minor and some not so minor. I am planning to make sopa de ajo tonight. Daisy Martinez, the author of the recipe, specifically warns against using canned chicken broth, but I’m going to go ahead and use it anyway. I hope the canned broth doesn’t ruin the soup, but this is a minor worry.

Then there is the major worry—the IRS audit. I can’t believe I’m being audited by the IRS! If we win the case, then everything continues along as it has been going. If we lose, the IRS penalizes us brutally and we’ll be hard-pressed to afford some upcoming expenses, like Marshall’s preschool, which wasn’t going to be easy to afford anyway. And it makes me so angry. We don’t make a lot of money. It’s hardly worth the government’s time to rake us over the coals. Year after year, certain wealthy people in this country play games with the tax code and get away with it. But we, who have ever striven to pay our share, might get stuck with a hefty fine for what was, if we were in fact wrong, an honest mistake. I believe we’re right. The IRS website says we’re right. But if we’re not, OMG, it’s going to hurt.

Now I have to wake the children, so I must end this post and turn off the Coldplay, drink my last sip of tea, take off the faux fur, and get out of bed. Ah, well. Nothing good lasts forever.

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