Meth and Taxes

Big sighs of relief for me and my clueless husband--I finally finished our taxes AND that drat high school drug chapter that I was writing. Both I completed this weekend, but not without much pushing of deadlines and tearing out of hair and gnashing of teeth. What a horrible few days!

The drug chapter involved a lot of discussions/arguments with Scott over our personal views on drug use and the (un)fairness of current drug laws and the (un)importance of drug-law history in America. (It’s hard to put the right amount of sarcasm into typed words.) It seems we completely agree and mostly disagree on the topic depending on which terms you use--the classic semantic argument. (I’ll let you guess who thinks what and how we disagree--not worth explaining because neither of us really use any illegal drugs and have no real plans to...wait, so why do we even bother arguing? Maybe it’s just to distract us from our nasty tax woes.) I did get a lovely, empathetic email from my editor who has two teenage sons who she says she knows that they use drugs but they don’t know that she knows. Great, so now I will have my own child to spy on and fret over and tick off and generally get in his or her business.

I can’t wait to go to the post office tomorrow and wait in a long line of procrastinators like myself to mail off my checks to the Feds and the state of Massachusetts. There is nothing more nightmarish to a Texan than paying state taxes, lemme tell you! But then, Massachusetts at least will protect my rights to buy health insurance for me and my baby…hmm, the jury’s still out over which place is better.

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