Tax time has come and gone for another year.
I was thinking about taxes just before I drifted off to sleep last Wednesday night. Earlier, I had been reading a book about a serial killer who prowled I-5 between Washington State and northern California, killing prostitutes along the way.
I dreamed that I was doing his taxes, and he insisted on claiming mileage. I wouldn’t let him do it because he wasn’t engaged in a legitimate business. We started arguing. That’s when I woke up.
Whew, maybe I should give up reading those kinds of stories just before bedtime.