F-ing paperwork

In my haste to go through documents and pictures, tearing me out of the ones I let him have, sometimes, I think I gave him all the tax records.

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Why did I do that?

Now I need them for my financial affidavit and I FOR SURE don’t want to ask him for anything.  I have a few more places to look, but spending all this time and not getting what I need, is making me cranky.

I’m one of those people who saves things.

Somewhere.

I used to work with someone who said a prayer to St. Anthony when she lost something.  She would always, then, find it.  No shit.  She would offer to say it for you, if you wanted her to.

That’s an option I guess.

Moving crankily on

 

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