The deep breath before the plunge

This week is shaping up to be hairy enough, but nothing like as nasty as next week’s gonna be.  Next week is when IRS starts.

That may not sound like much, bue what it means is that I’ll have to work from 7:15 in the morning until 12:30 the next morning all week, something like 72 hours in sixteen-hour days.  Add in transit time and unwind/rewind, and I’ll be lucky to get four hours’ sleep a night.  I might resurface by the end of the month, by which time I should be working only sixty-hour weeks.  And if I last at it, those sixty-hour weeks will continue through early July, with overtime added in as one employer or another (mostly IRS, I figure) offers it.

So if you want me for something, telephone.  I’m giving no guarantees on how good I’ll be at following LJ, or answering email, or anything else.  I’m already wondering wotthehell I’ll do if my mother-in-law comes to visit next month, as she’s threatening.  (I rather like her, but I may not see her.)

Pogo substantiates an allegation in the unplaned yellow atmosphere  Fnord.