"Would the night were come! Till then, sit still my soul!"

 I'm getting more efficient at the taxes, which means that on the annual long-double day that I set up shop to take care of our tax returns "all day" between a morning rehearsal and an evening concert I am finding myself with more hours vacant than occupied as each year passes.

I had both returns submitted before 3:00 this year, which means that I've spent the last two hours involuntarily overhearing the proselytizing of two clean-cut Mormon boys in black suits and puffer jackets to an elderly janitor who is attempting to argue back against their slick prefabricated set pieces about his own Sinfulness and how Joseph Smith is really less important than Jesus.

It's depressing.

It's too cold and snowy for a walk (I came in my dress clothes today), my kindle is charging, and my earbuds haven't recharged enough to play the "Continuous White Noise--Rain on the River" track that I put it while I attempt to put my head down.

The place where I'm sitting is a riot of smells. I am directly across from a Jamaican food bar (smelling of curries, jerk chicken on the grill, and fruits) and kitty-corner from an Ethiopian place where they are grilling naan and braising meat in berbere spices. 

When the concert finally arrives it will be a relief to have something meaningful to do again, but then after the concert will follow a creeping multi-hour drive back through the blizzard that has finally arrived in Central New York after teasing with false forecasts for the last several days.

Doing the taxes was a sobering snapshot of the year that was. I added up all of the miles driven, counted the thruway tolls, parsed out the parking fees, subtracted "office" expenses, looked up the date the dates I acquired new assets (mouthpieces and trumpets) and then weighed it all up against the final number that was my W-2 income.

But it isn't all snow and gloom. I received an email just now from the U.S Office of Consular affairs that my passport renewal has been successful--which means that J and I are officially good to go on our trip to Greece this summer. We might be working hard in the snow right now, but we'll be lying on a beach in Naxos this August.

And if any IRS agents happen to be reading this blog, that journey to Greece is a business trip for musical purposes that is entirely tax-deductible for 2025.