This was not a day I was particularly looking forward to. There were too many meetings, too much uncertainty, too much interaction with the FX in a forced civility sort of way. Surfer Dude's school conference was looking to be a no-stress situation, but the first tax filing post divorce was a little unnerving, especially with splitting kid deductions and mortgage interest and all those other fun things that are guaranteed to make peacefully divorced people squabble. In the end, nothing at all today worked out the way it was supposed to. Odd thing is that virtually everything came out better. Whoa. April Fools Day is a month off. What gives?
First off was the guy who did my taxes. Damn. The man was hot. And exactly my type. Not that I'm looking, mind you. But I do have a type. Not that it matters, mind you. But if I was looking and it did matter, he was my type. To a Tee. He even laughed at my jokes (and not my gross income). Hot tax man got even hotter when it turned out that he has his own handyman/house repair business, and he whipped out a card and said, "I'm hoping you want one of these."
Well, hell, I know he's only drumming up business, but damn. Have I mentioned the man was hot? Would he look even hotter patching plaster? Repairing staircase spindles? Replacing the light fixture in the computer room that the FX pulled out a year and a half ago and couldn't figure out how to get back in?
Is it warm in here, or is it me?
Then there was my annual performance review at work, which went so well that I almost felt like I was being Punk'd. I guess handing out twenties to all the charge nurses really does help. When my boss read back some of the peer reviews I honestly thought for a minute that I might burst into tears, but I didn't. I don't want to look all puffy in the eyes if hot tax fix-it guy finds an error on my return and out of the goodness of his heart decides to hand deliver it and give me an estimate on my foundation at the same time. Be prepared, that's my motto.
Off to Surfer Dude's conference, which produced a bright, shiny row of A's. And a teacher who is determined to place him in advanced math and English classes next year in Junior High. Now, I have experience with the gifted English classes from my older two kids, but math? In this family? Maybe the Punk'd crew was following me all day? Could there be any other explanation for this?
In between these things, I ran four miles, had a lovely, sunbathed catch-up chat with a dear friend on the playground while our boys ran around taking advantage of a gorgeous warm day, shuttled Gumby and Sasquatch all over town, and finally collapsed in front of the television with SD and a Strawberry Blonde beer - my new favorite.
It may not have been the quietest "day off", but it sure had its moments.