Finish Line

By now, since it’s the day you have to turn in the tax info, you are in deep, over your head, with files all around you, trying to get done and mail the blasted thing before midnight. Or, you are sitting there smugly, thinking of all the slackers struggling away while you relax with your feet up, conscience clear. If you are neither of these, you are hoping to catch that plane to the Cayman Islands before someone catches you. I suppose there’s a fourth possibility: You could be frying fish in a pan atop the woodstove, in a cabin hidden in southern, or northern, woods.

If it’s one of the latter two, I’ll understand if you have no comments to share on tax time. But, any of these possibilities still leaves you able to read this post--the internet is great, isn't it? If you are still working, condolences. If you are done with the race, congratulations. Either way, you don’t want a long treatise to slog through, so I’ll just say, IT’S OVER FOR A YEAR, and let myself out.

Oh, you smug ones, receiving a return? Keep in mind it was your money from the git-go. This savings account earned you how much interest?