Boomer Chick Musings

I thought I was going to cry.  I almost did.  Then I thought, I can do this.  Then I thought I was going to cry, again.  Then the next thought I had 'was call your son.'  No, No NO!  I was not going to call my son.  He doesn't do this.  He can't possible know what's going on here.  But he's a rocket scientist!  Well, he's not but he could usually figure out what was on my computer. I'm talking about taxes.  No, not MY taxes.  It's for the church.  I'm the treasurer.  I have to get the appropriate income tax forms to the workers.  Oh, dear God (literally), what did I commit to do for these people? I've been at this two years now.  It came with five notebooks, a box of paid bills, a stack of regularly paid bills, and yes, everything I didn't know about tax forms.  I have pared it down to an active folder to drop things into, a portable 'paid bill' folder, and a four-inch wide notebook that that allows me to find everything at on