So █████ and I went back to see our bowling-champion accountant last night to pick up our taxes. He met us rushing back from dinner at a neighborhood Italian place down the avenue. The news was so good that we went straight over to a bar called Dillinger's for celebratory beer and wings.
Of course, good news is relative, and in this case means the news was not nearly as bad as we feared it would be. We may still be able to afford to move to Chicago and go to Worldcon in Yokohama.
And of course, even if the news had been truly bad, we still would have gone to Dillinger's for consolatory beer and wings. They just wouldn't have tasted quite as good as the celebratory ones.
