The needles and the damage done...

I've a strange notion about balance.
I don't necessarily believe that it always even out, but let's take this weekend for example.

It was the long weekend (Easter, Passover, blah, blah, whatever). Chris and I headed up to Midland to visit his parents on Thursday night -- and made a quick jaunt to the casino on the way up.

(In financially desperate times? Gamble! It does a body -- and a wallet -- good. Pray for miracles -- unanswered -- from the gods of chance. Don't let them see you weep as you leave penniless.)

So the casino was a bust. Yesterday Chris' brother and his, uh, old lady (two decades his senior) came by and we stuffed ourselves and played cards (OK, maybe there was some light gambling... pennies only). I got my clock cleaned.

Realizing that I would be having my income tax done this weekend, having luck of a crapulent sort was... well, upsetting.

But no, I wouldn't stop there.

This afternoon, while strolling about the failing local mall, I noticed a blood donor clinic arranged by the Red Cross. Recalling my ambition for tattoos (though without the finanical means of acquiring them), I figured, "It's been a good year or two since I donated -- why the hell not? Hook me up, fuckers!" (I get extra guilt points as I am a universal donor.)

I left an hour and a half later -- minus a pint or two of blood but blessed with some shocking holes in both my arms. The crook of my right arm is quite a mess.

(Note to self: Never donate blood in a small town ever again.)

This evening... it was tax time. (*cue ominous music and dimming of lights... with faceless shadows of tax men flickering strobe-style in the corners of the room*)

Then suddenly, it happened... The sun shone. The heavens broke open with holy, cleansing light while a chorus of celestial bodies burst forth in glorious harmony.

That's right. I have been saved.

With some help (it does pay to know people who do accounting and taxes for a living), I wrangled my $1500-$2500 balance owed to a refund of $28!

HALLE-FUCKING-LUJAH!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank the gods I keep good receipts and records. And let us all bless the captial cost allowance section, while we're at it.

Suddenly my arms don't hurt so much.
Although the Midland blood donor clinics will henceforth be known of The Butchers Of Huronia.

But enough of that.

May you all have peaceful and happy long weekends, good health, too much food and your own little bursts of sublime joy.