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Christmas has come and gone, and I'm still working on presents. I may have overestimated my ability to crochet all the things, or at least, the tolerance of my wrists for it. At work, last year's books are closing and this year's are opening, along with all sorts of corporate new year's resolutions. We're going to be faster, smarter, more automated, get more shit done, and do it right!

There will be absolutely no emergencies requiring contravening established process that's there for a good reason or any accumulation of technical debt by duct-taping things. And if any of you believe that, I've got some lovely swampland in Florida to sell you. Lovely views.

On the less career side of things, Friday night games night has turned into "get drunk and play Cards Against Humanity night". This is okay - we also all tend to show up with beer, vodka, fancy cheeses, and a couple of loaves of bread, which means that while we're making dick jokes, college students are learning about important things. Like object permanence and Cotswold.

Good news from the new year include: the IRS giving up a $9,000 charge over fucked up paperwork and charging me a grand total of $58 thanks to the cunning tax-preparing ways of wombat-socho. As a result, the only other fucked up tax charge I have left after moving four states in three years is the state of California claiming I owe them $11,000 for living there in 2011.

Being as I didn't live there in 2011, I've delegated this to wombat-socho again. I'm also taking notes for that day when I have to start doing my own taxes. It's kind of remarkable how much and how often states and the federal government can screw up the paperwork, and it seems like the best defense is becoming offensively familiar with the details of the tax code.

This has also been a bit of a wake up call. I strongly suspect that by the end of the year, I'm going to need to be into my own house, both for the sake of dealing with the Oregon state income tax, and for the sake of how much I'm paying per month to live somewhere. Portland property values are soaring, though, and I'm not sure how much longer the one decent part of town I'm eying will continue to be livable, or affordable, territory.

Life continues, as it does. I have a front seat view of a sky shifting from thunderstorm to clear blue sky to cloudy every 20-30 minutes, and a Chemex full of coffee next to me while I work on my projects. It's not a bad place to be.

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