Today I've been doing the taxes. Why didn't we file earlier? Two reasons: First, we're missing some paperwork and have had to request replacements. Second, my estimates are that we won't get much of a refund if any, so there's no reason to rush. Normally a refund is a tax-free loan to the government, but interest rates are currently so low that we're not really forgoing much money.

It's been an eye-opening experience. I'm finally working a professional job, so I'm making much more money. Plus, I married a woman working a professional job. So there's so much income to report! It's amazing! To me, at least.

It's also so much more complicated. Perhaps I should have asked my father-in-law the retired accountant to do it for me. But I've got software doing the heavy lifting, the only really difficult part so far has been figuring out Form 8949. Which capital gains are covered, which are noncovered, etc.

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Recently several branches of the bank I work for were picketed by the John Birch Society. I'm kind of surprised that Lyndon LaRouche is still going strong. At any rate, for the rest of the day we joked about being in the pocket of Queen Victoria.

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So, this weekend should be like most of my weekends: I get up Saturday morning, go to work, come home at night, sleep, get up Sunday and work all that day too.

Except there's going to be a mighty blizzard while I'm at work on Saturday. They are calling for another foot of snow, with temperatures so cold that road salt doesn't work, and high winds giving wind chills of -25 or so, well into the rapid-onset frostbite area.

So I'm bringing some extra food to work, because there's a distinct chance that I'm going to get stuck there for a while. I put some frozen food in the trunk of my car, but upon further thinking I'm going to put it in a cooler, because I'm probably going to pull my car into the loading bay. When it's inside a garage like that, it not only will be out of the snow, it might be warm enough that my battery can crank it.

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I don't think Buffalo's received an unusual quantity of snow this year. What's unusual is that most winters we get an occasional thaw that melts off much of what's already on the ground. With no thaws this year, the snow just keeps piling up.

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We had a lovely white Thanksgiving, and are about to have a white New Year's Eve. Too bad the Christmas in between was snow-free.

Interestingly enough, my winter beard has some white hairs in it. That's new this year. I came to terms with my receding hairline years ago, but the salt-and-pepper was a surprise.

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I guess I should blog about our honeymoon.

We gave ourselves a few days after the wedding to relax before leaving; that also meant we didn't have to add "pack for a week-long trip" to the long list of things we had to do in the run-up to said wedding. I recommend this plan to future couples.

We flew out of our fine local airport to Cancún, with a layover in Charlotte. We only spend about six hours total in the air, because Cancún is not as far away as one might think, being on the very tip of the Yucatan Peninsula. When we arrived, we got "help" from the local tourist agency who wanted to upsell us on a lot of local attractions. I'm a veteran of coastal tourist traps throughout the Pacific, and the principle remains the same in the Caribbean, so we escaped without further financial damage.

As soon as we waled outside the air-conditioned airport, I was struck my a strong sense of deja-vu. The climate was very much like Okinawa, with the smell of salt air, the heat and humidity, and the tropical plants everywhere. The specific natural life was of course different, but the climate was nearly identical. The climate also encouraged some similar construction styles, with buildings painted in durable off-white, with flat roofs and walls constructed of storm-resistant cinder block. Only the older buildings betrayed different cultural styles. Also, Okinawa is wealthier, so the cars were fancier and the buildings often in better repair.

We hopped on a shuttle van to take us to our resort. We were staying at an all-inclusive resort called the Excellence Playa Mujares, which is actually located in the next municipality north of Cancún proper. As we rode along we chatted with the two other couples in the van: one pair was from Texas and were celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary, and the other couple was from either China or Taiwan, judging from the language they were speaking to each other.

After our 45-minute ride we arrived and were whisked inside by the uniformed bellhop. We registered at the front, and the same bellhop took us to our room, explaining the many amenities as he went. Sadly, Hil wasn't paying much attention, so throughout the week I had to tell her stuff again.

We sprang for a "Rooftop Terrace Suite" which means we had a room with a balcony, and then stairs up to a private rooftop terrace with a mini-pool. It was too small to swim in, but too big to count as a hot tub, so I'm going to call it a mini-pool. With my pale north-european complexion I didn't spend much time up there during the sunlit hours, so I'm not sure we got full value of it, but we did hang out in that pool for sunsets, of which we had a great view. I'd forgotten how fast the sun sets in the subtropics.

There were bunches of restaurants, each with a culinary style. The French place was quite good, the pan-Asian was mediocre, and the Mexican cuisine was unsurprisingly excellent.

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This afternoon, my lovely wife and I headed to Texas de Brazil, an all-you-can-eat steakhouse with Argentine and Texas meat. We were there for a joint birthday party for my brother-in-law and sister-in-law.

So much meat.

I can't even explain how much meat.

Well, yes I can. Basically they have about twenty different types of meat. You don't order food. Instead, the servers (dressed as, and calling themselves "gauchos" wander the dining area carrying giant skewers of meat. One will approach your table and say "Anyone want sirloin?" If you indicate approval, they will carve off some sirloin for you. Repeat every two minutes or so.

So much meat. I feel like I did my part, but the BIL is a bigger and hungrier man than I. The profit the restaurant made off of me, they lost on him. I feel like taking both him and my eldest sister's husband to this place, but I suspect they'd get competitive and someone would die of beef poisoning. (That's a Simpsons joke.)

We finished gorging on flesh and went home. After an hour of digestion, the wife and I were off again, to a book club started by some old friends of mine. It's the "Dessert Book Club", because the schtick is we meet somewhere and eat desserts while talking about the book!

This synchronicity of scheduling was amazing. I am utterly stuffed. I just checked and I weigh four pounds more than I did this morning. I need to pack a lunch for work tomorrow, but the thought of food revolts me. And because there's a foot of snow predicted, I suspect there won't be any food trucks outside my office when I need them.

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Turns out this new job comes with a lot more work. I look over at the guard sitting next to me reading Reddit on his phone, and I think "Three months ago, that was me!"

On the upside, I get a lot more pay and benefits in exchange for not having time to read Reddit at work anymore.

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We had thirty-one kids this year, not bad for a year with crummy weather. It was raining and in the mid-40's.

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There's a nice perk to working for a bank: mandatory vacations.

Lots of companies make it difficult or impossible to use the vacation days you are given. Hil's job, for instance, gives her 45 days of vacation a year, of which 15 can be carried over. But in her prior position, she had to visit every one of her clients twice a month, and it simply wasn't doable to get days off. Only with heroic efforts and the cooperation of her coworkers could she get a week off for something important.

At the bank, in contrast, I am required to go on vacation for ten straight days at least once every calendar year. (The first year is excepted.) While on that vacation, no one from work is allowed to contact me, and I'm not allowed to contact anyone from work. (The exception is that I can contact HR if there's some kind of emergency that will change my return date.) My remote access will be turned off during this leave.

This isn't because banks are friendly companies, oh no. It's required by one of the dozens of government agencies that regulate banks. The idea is that if I'm up to some kind of shenanigans, there will be ten straight days for the auditors to catch me during which I can't cover my tracks. But I'll take it gladly, even if the reason for it is that they don't trust me.

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