No, I haven’t died. I would feel much better than I do if I had, in fact, died.
Easter is just too early this year. Usually it falls later into tax season, and sometimes even after. Then we’re pretty much past crunch time. Even though we always have our last minute filers who make it a ritual to bring their stuff in say like April 13th, I’m usually quite able to assess the fact that I will be able to finish up before our annual April 15th lunch. Right now, however, there is a mountain of work waiting for my tired little brain. I actually went to bed at 11:00 p.m. last night. That’s like farmer’s bedtime for me. I’m that tired. And now Sunday, the only day off I have during tax season, I have to spend at Mom’s for Easter dinner. Which usually would be nice. But there is a mountain of laundry that I usually get done on Sunday. And instead I’ll be eating ham with the fam. And I’ll feel guilty. And I hope nobody expects any Easter gifts. Because they’re not getting them. No cards, no Easter flowers. And nobody boiled any Easter eggs, either. Deal with it. I believe Easter Bunny, however, with the help of Big Daddy, will provide his usual assortment of goodies. Everyone else can just accept my presence as their Easter gift this year.
And for you, Soldier Son, I’m glad I get to talk to you online. While the rest of the family was home for Easter break, sleeping in on Good Friday, there we were at work. And Saturday, too. At least the traffic was light. I hope you don’t mind that my letters have slowed down, but Big Daddy did send a package recently. And I, unlike you, will try to keep my blog alive. I keep checking for new posts on yours. C’mon, slacker dude!