Ow.

So. Today? Paid off the overdue bill from getting last year's taxes done, and paid this year's fee for them. That'll be about $700. Paid off the last of a very large overdue PECo bill. About $300. And put in an order for boning, as I have a trunk show in two weeks, and a corset that has to be shipped tomorrow night-- but no bones to put into any of them. That was $300.

Even better? Because I operated at a loss last year and made no profit, I don't get that fat $600 check that "everyone" gets. And of course, I don't get any kind of tax return, either.

Crap.

Now, having said that, I do want to spread the gospel of my accountant, Bob. Bob Cornaglia:

Raible, Cornaglia, and Wenstrom, LLC.
457 Haddonfield Rd # 410
Cherry Hill, NJ 08002
(856) 488-1860

This guy ROCKS. Honest to G-d. He's smart, he's damn good, and he's a lot of fun to work with. He does my brother-in-law's taxes, and my brother-in-law is an advisor with Ameriprise, so he's no dummy when it comes to money. I took Bob-- no lie-- half a dozen folders FULL of receipts, and he made sense of it all in no time flat. He helped me get all my business paperwork in order last year, and has helped me see where I need to go for the next year, financially. He's also fun to bullshit with: he was telling me all the accountant jokes they guys in the office all play on each other-- while acknowledging that yeah, they're accountant jokes. And he said that yes, in the form where it says I don't get jack back this year, it does actually say, "Fuckers."

Well, I either get this toile corset done, or I just go shoot myself tomorrow.

Damned clutter.

I'm clearing out pockets of papers and odds and ends, and finding stacks of junk I've kept, unlooked-at, for ages. Yesterday, I discovered a box of...well, stuff from 2003-4. Today, a basket with old mail from 2005. I swear it's like dragging pockets of shadowy junkmail vampires out into the light to crackle into flames and burn down to ash. Of course, my place still looks like hell, but again, it's the fishtank metaphor: it looks worst when you stir it all up, but that's the only way to get all the shit out.

Well, that's what I'm telling myself at the moment.

Gulp!

Oh, my fleepin' G-d. I came up with the brilliant idea of renting a thermal imaging cam for the ghost hunting expedition on the 18th. $500 is the lowest I've seen. Wow. For that price, it'd better make me dinner, bring me flowers, and do the laundry before it leaves.