<--Image from where I sat in tax-man's office today. He & my husband are speaking in tongues, my mind wanders... "Man that was a hammer fest of a mtn bike ride yesterday...I'm sore." The office is a time capsule from last year, folders strewn about. Faded framed images still off-kilter on wall..."is that really his family? ...WHY DOES HIS BUSINESS CARD HOLDER LOOK LIKE A HEADSTONE? Am I in a Far Side cartoon... when we leave, like the cows that stand after a car passes, does his office turn into a chandelier laden, bright wall-papered brothel?"I fight the urge to paint the white, dusty walls a bright happy color. Amazed at his ability to zero in on #'s he needs. Clearly I'm in the right career; a visual, pretty one, outside... and him with his brilliant numbers, & ability to read tiny print. "Does he have a big house?" Everything is mono-chromatic. Even him. I want to take him, his wife & daughter for a bike ride, so I offer my pretty pink business card.
Driving away, Grateful Dead is singing "Touch of Gray" on the radio. I smile at the appropriateness of it all. My world includes colors of green grass, pink accents, blue skies. His-- gray, red tape, manila. Paperless? I think not. Happy almost April 15th.
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