Dear Busy Season (aka tax season),
How I wish you were over. You are cruel and unkind and I won’t miss you at all when you are done for 2012. Because I would like to see my husband more than I did when we were dating. Which has not happened recently. All because of you.
Busy Season, if you last past tomorrow – and do not end with a signature, as promised – I do not know what I will do. Crying will be involved. And Scott will probably officially turn into a zombie.
We’ve handled you well, but we are at the end of our ropes. We don’t complain that we never spend an evening together (I’m glad I got so good at cooking for one in my single days). We don’t complain that I am almost always asleep by the time Scott gets home from work (and I am a night owl!). Scott manfully accepts when he has to work the entire weekend (even after the pastor has preached about how important it is to keep the Sabbath! We hear you, JR – this was the last one I promise!). But there is only so much a couple can take.
We think (and hope and pray) that the end is in sight and that this will all be over in 48 hours. Please don’t stay past your welcome. Give me my husband back!
Rebecca (aka The Newlywed Wife of a Certified Public Accountant)
P.S. Speaking of newlywed, I’m missing our honeymoon right about now. We should go back to Curacao. And since all posts are better with a picture or two…