Sunday, March 1, 2009


I dreamed that I was working on filing my taxes. I was trying to work, but my aunt and uncle were standing behind me, looking over my shoulder. They were making me nervous because my aunt was a teacher and my uncle was an engineer. I knew that my aunt was annoyed by the way I was holding my pencil.

I was looking at my W2 from my grocery store job last summer in New York. I was trying to find the box that said how much (how little?) money I made there, but all I could find were ads for things like Tide. The company had attached a store advertisement to my W2 and I just turned the pages, looking in vain for my earnings statement.

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