Latest dream: I had testicular cancer.

Nice eh?

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Last night I sat down to do my 2002 taxes with QuickTax, and failed. For some reason it would not take into account the 8G I spent on daycare last year. This is a deduction I need desperately. The software didn't even give me a message saying, "your daycare amounts can't be deducted because your tax situation is so-and-so and you smell funny," or some such thing.

So now I'm left with no choice but to run to an accountant tonight and get her to fix things for me. Between last years's four different sources of income, three different childcare payment recipients, my retirement contribution carryover and home-buyer's plan repayment, as well as quasi-dependent amounts for the children, I guess the software was overwhelmed, as am I. How the hell did life get so complimackated?

Prior to the tax fiasco, Pinky and I went to our dance lesson. We pretty much just went over stuff we'd learned in previous lessons. I seem to have hit a wall in what I can learn -- I'm stuck on certain things, like the Corte in the Tango, and the Cuddle and the Lift in Swing.

We also found out that one of the other students is dating the teacher, which we'd kind of suspected. The dog! :-)

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