OPERATION: Homebody...part two?

Well boys, you get your wish...you get to see more of your daddy.

Addicts call it "rock bottom". It's the absolute lowest level before the self-realization or assisted proclamation that help is needed and their current state is unsustainable. Granted, my problems are no where near as detrimental as a clinically-deemed addict, but I did need some help in something I have been struggling with for a while.

I know, I know, we have been through this before with varying results. But I was in Corpus where I could make the excuse to be a homebody (or not). But this is Dallas. This is a town where they build stuff on top of stuff to exercise boredom. This is a town that blows up stuff that used to be fun, because they thought is was a good idea. But there is a true reason for the operation reboot. And I don't think I have a choice in the matter.

So, there are these things called taxes. Apparently, you are supposed to do them every year. But I am not sure if you are supposed to pay them in the amount and frequency we have done in the couple of years in Dallas. I don't know if The Lovely wants me to divulge the amount paid from our last two submissions. But I will say that the grand total could finance a small counterinsurgency in an unstable region overseas.

Last year was a bit different because we actually had a war chest ready to use for the huge number changeover we were going to experience. And yes, your hand shakes whenever you write a check with five significant digits for the first time. But this year, we are in a bit of a pinch. So, what do responsible adults do when they are in a pinch?

No, seriously, what do we do?

We -- more in tune to the situation, I -- know exactly what to do. OPERATION: Homebody 2 has to work. If it doesn't, that's all I need to compound a situation...tax issues. It's really not a big deal. I either pair down the optional living expenses and throw money at the problem or I arrange a payment plan and get worked over by simple interest to pay this off. It's not a big deal. It has to be done. And I'm sure it will go to a good cause.

It sucks. My outings and my schedules will now be affected. Hell, The Lovely is skipping one of the four weddings to save some money. My social schedule will be altered by trying to load balance other things to do in the saving effort. No more drunken nights of random iTunes purchasing binges. No more kickass dinners where we shrug at triple-digit tabs. No, all the spare change we have goes to Uncle Sam. Blogs will consist of reading back issue magazine articles and supplanting delayed opinions as opposed to comparing which restaurant has the better short ribs (Bolsa has the Shiner Bock marinade as Craft just slow roasts the hell out of them). That might be an accidental benefit from the op reboot. And I can cancel that miniature giraffe order.

But in the back of my mind, I hate this. I wish I was one of those crooked bastards that gets away from all of this fiscal responsibility. I could stare and bold-face lie to some sap to protect my secret millions. But I'm sure there are some pitfalls with that as well.

Or I could fix my W-4 like a normal person.

So, for all my social connections, I will be in hiding for the next four months. I may sneak away for a rebound of the fun life. Hopefully, my debt to the nation will be paid sooner rather than later. I'm sure I can generate some action while at home, but we will see. I have this thing called a PS3...I wonder what it does other than Blu-Ray and Netflix?

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) C'mon, admit it, VCU and Butler in the Final Four is kinda cool. However, you will never make me love the bracket of 68. Make it an even 96 and move on.
2) So many hacks...so...many...hacks.
3) Welp, I have lost another dozen brain cells. Eh, it happens. Catchy. At least it's not that damn "Saturday" song.

Seriously, this homebody thing has to work. If anyone has any suggestions or assistance, don't hesitate to comment. I may need the comments to read to pass the time. Lameness. Talk later.