I sent out an email to the ex last night telling him that if he didn't get copies of last year's tax return and this year's stock performances from January through March to me that it was going to cost me extra money to get tax help because I'd be scheduling an appointment with the tax advisor so late. He agreed to drop them off at the apartment at 8:00 a.m. Saturday. Thursday's his birthday, so I guess I ought to have a card (and perhaps a token gift) ready for him by then. I'm not sure what Emily Post recommends for situations such as this.

I've been somewhat unsettled these past few days. It seems to happen this time of year. I get reflexive, moody, discontent, restless. I spoke with someone who works for the feds this morning; the government would hire me in a flash if I wanted to put in an application. He then went on to suggest that I probably didn't want to do that to myself. He's probably right. Still, it's nice to know I have a fall-back position, should one be needed.

My latest AVMA journal featured an overview of a classmate of mine, who works for the EPA. She was consulted in the anthrax clean-up at Capitol Hill, and also worked at ground zero in New York. It makes me feel a bit like an underachiever. Four years out of school, and she's making a difference while I'm spinning my wheels.

I think I'll return to sulking at my desk now.