The Taxman, The Clerk, and The Clogger

Without a police report my insurance company cannot process the claim for my accident and we are responsible for the $500 deductible necessary to pick up our fixed car. The best I can hope for at this point is that the shop takes much longer than they anticipated with the repairs.
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And in other news, the Clogger did her 4-H presentation last night. Oh, sure, she was nervous, but like I told her afterward, being brave doesn't mean you're not scared or nervous. Being brave means you do the thing in spite of being scared.
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I slipped on the ice in our driveway last night, pulling a sweet Charlie Brown-kicking-the-missing-football move, feet flying up in front of me, and landing smack on my rear. You would think that all the padding I'm carrying back there would have protected me a bit more.
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The pressure is on to get the taxes done. I loathe the paperwork and number crunching necessary, but feel such relief when it gets done... I hate myself for procrastinating, but can't seem to get going on it. Every year is like this. You'd think I'd learn.