I loathe this time of year.

[agilebrit]

Hubby!Company: Oh, hay, guiz, ur W2 is online naow, isn't that nice?

Well, yeah, it would be.

IF I COULD FIND THE FRELLING THING.

Hey, Company My Hubby Works For? If you could stick a link to the place to get our W2s on the front page? That'd be peachy. Especially considering what time of year it is...and considering that this is the first year you've done this.

So, now I get to stress about us going to Moab tomorrow, not having the taxes done, and banging my head against the computer. Fortunately, I think I have all the (other) forms I need (all hail), so if worse comes to worse I can do them in Moab or on the 15th when we get back, but this is damaging my calm.

In other news, writing a one-sentence hook that encompasses this entire novel is...problematic. Not!Harry's stakes are a lot higher than just the physical here--I mean, he faces losing it completely and ending up in a mental institution or dead by his own hand, if it goes any worse for him than it does. (O, hai, sequel, wherein I pile even more angst upon his head.) This is not a happy circumstance for him. But setting the hook so it's not a drabble-long sentence is giving me fits right now.

I suppose I should pack. GYAH.

Comments

[sunnyd-lite.livejournal.com]

Hmm just musing a bit -- "He was as fractured as a human could get. Then they broke him further."

/randomosity

[agilebrit.livejournal.com]

Oh, golly, I love that...

[bojojoti.livejournal.com]

I got my tax papers to the accountant. The next day, I got more stuff in the mail. What the heck? This happens every year, and places are supposed to send it out by January 31st or so.

I hate all the paperwork.