Tax time is not a good time for me. I am disorganized, I am panic stricken and I always have a meltdown surrounded by crumpled up receipts dug up from various shoe boxes and cracker tins. Every year I vow that I will change but inevitably I find myself in the same situation again, lamenting my fate, my lack of funds and career choices. I need to get out of my line of work but do not have a plan B in place. Nor do I have any skills. Nor do I know wealthy strangers who want to hand me thick envelopes of money to sit around in my bathrobe eating snacks and watching television.
Eventually the combination of too much time with a calculator and too much dark chocolate had me feeling anxious. I concluded that The Sweetie and I needed sustenance to prevent my head from exploding. Greasy burgers and fries would do the trick.
“Don’t you want to split onion rings?” I muttered as we got closer to the counter.
“I’m not that crazy about onion rings.” The Sweetie demurred.
“How can you say that?” I cried, almost stomping on his foot.
“If you want onion rings go ahead and order them,” he responded, as if that was the proper answer.
“But then I’ll be jealous of your French fries,” I reasoned.
“So I’ll give you a few.”
I could feel myself getting stressed again.
A friend of mine believes that I was a starving chihuahua in a past life because of my food anxiety. I always worry that I won’t have enough. Often my concerns are justified as I can out-eat most people I know.
“Don’t you think after facing all those receipts we deserve to stuff ourselves? Once we have to start paying off our taxes we may not be able to afford to eat anymore.”
The Sweetie sighed and tried to ignore me as I tugged on his arm. Then I saw a family combo listed on the board. Two burgers, two mini burgers, large fries, large onion rings and four drinks. Now that is a worthy dinner.
“We should get the family combo!” I exclaimed. ”It’s almost cheaper than getting two regular combos!”
“That’s disgusting.” The Sweetie chided. ”That is pure gluttony.”
“Gluttony shmuttony! We can do it!” I said enthusiastically. ”I know we can. I believe in us!”
The Sweetie continued to ignore me.
I could hear my voice rising. ”It’s not a real family combo. You split that in four and you are barely getting a meal. There aren’t enough fries and onion rings to be divided in four. And who’s getting the mini burger? The kids? How old are they? Because if they are older than toddlers they are not going to be satisfied with a paltry sprinkling of fries and a mini burger I’ll tell you that right now.”
“Not everyone eats like you.” The Sweetie said.
“We can do it I tell you!” I was nearly shouting.”Why aren’t you listening to me?”
Not wanting a scene The Sweetie finally succumbed and I nearly skipped home clutching the bulging food sack to my chest.
As we spread our bounty before us, my tax receipts tucked away for another day, I realized I could take a deep breath again. Amazing how a food reward can instantly change my mood. I was a dog in a past life.