Time flies when you're busy. Too busy. Yesterday I was up to my eyeballs preparing to meet my Maker, that is, my accountant, for my Day Of Reckoning. The best thing about doing your taxes is that you don't have to do them again for a year.
I know the expression about the inexorability of time/fate and all that is "death and taxes", supposedly unavoidable for everyone. But it's life that runs in my head as I gather up the past 365 days, life and memories and sins of omission and commission and forgotten obligations and here and there, a few satisfactions for something well done. Time does not fly, it does not. Suddenly I was remembering something that happened last spring and it seems like forever ago. That can't have been just ten months ago. I guess shovelling up all the paper brings with it a clearing out of memories.
Ah, the dumpster of the mind! Tomorrow I'll start scavenging again.