Fio seems to go up and down--up and filled with hope, down with gloom. She couldn't get hold of anyone she was trying to reach yesterday, couldn't get Doggie to take her worm pills, couldn't overcome problems with the password thing and something about the latest Google apps, and couldn't figure out how to handle Carbonite, her back-up, being "out of date." Totally overwhelmed by it all, she started sniffling, then crying, which, of course, signaled sweet Sonia to her side, in her lap, and all over her face.
Later in the afternoon, friend Ellen called from California, and she and Fio stayed on the phone for about an hour, with yours truly monopolizing the conversation. It was so wonderful to have another human being to talk to, someone who's known her since childhood, someone who's on her side.
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What Fiorella would really like to do is dump all her tax stuff in the lap of an understanding CPA and be done with it. Fio does have a very nice CPA, but she hasn't located everything that needs to be dumped in his lap yet because back in the spring, she and the kids tore the place apart looking for insurance and investment policies. Ah well, this too shall pass.
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One nice thing that happened was that a friend labeled Fiorella a "prize-winning author" on an Amazon review, which Fiorella had actually forgotten she once was. Yep, she won eleven and placed in a batch more. She still has three finished romances in her closet and several paritals, Snap to it, Fio! Get yourself out there on the marketplace!
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