I know, I know... I should be joining hands with all the folks around me saying, "It's so nice!" and skipping through the park with nary a care. (heh.) The trouble is, it's January. Worse, it's January, and by all accounts, there's supposed to be a killer storm coming. "Vienta la tormenta!"
Actually, that's not it at all. Truth of it is, I don't much like spring. Spring hits and the world is all potential realizing itself. It is new, fresh, and ready to become anything. It is youth itself, and it has driven a dagger into my chest since I was young. I am too careworn, too wrapped up in inanities, too obsessed with propriety. Spring reminds me that I should be alive, living, but that I'm really just stumbling along. Spring comes every year to tell me how I have failed.
My latest saga with DOR continues unabated. My protest over their seizing my accounts has ensured that the case will be reviewed, and I'm told that the monies that were in the account will not be disbursed while the review is taking place. It's a small comfort, to be sure, considering that even in the best case scenario, I still have to deal with several hundred dollars in fees for bounced checks, penalties for late payments, and pay for my attorneys. Given that my budget runs incredibly tight as it is (even with maternal subsidies), this whole affair has thrown me off for several months at least.
Worst case scenario? I really don't want to think about it much. I honestly don't think that I'm going to be able to survive for the next four years on the contents of my pocket.