Why I hate January, corporate taxes, and the ides of March

I have to get a groove back with the writing. I lost the groove post-NaNoWriMo what with the wedding spectacular of a BFF, followed by the holidays, followed by January. Let me tell you a little something about January. She’s a deceptive and tricky bitch, she is. I always expect by then that life will sloooow down. The holidays have passed, around here the stores are all but boarded up, the people start taking vacations and even the ~15K winter population dwindles as people rotate in and out, the weather forbids you exit from your domicile lest your face fall off, etc. It should be a period of forced hibernation, really.

But oh no.

Because with January comes my most dreaded and stress-laden task of the year: tax preparation.

Two years ago, I became the accidental custodian of the books for eight corporations. Eight corporations! I have no formal bookkeeping or accounting training. I just have a crazy entreprenuer-type husband who thinks in Monopoly dollars – you know, some things cost four pink bills and others five yellows, that sort of thing. I do have a secret love of math and a knack for same, so there’s that. But eight corporations! You have no idea the government BS involved times eight. And then there’s the stress that comes along with a job for which you are not quite sure you’re qualified.

Although, as an aside, I ran into my accountant out and about recently (yes, I do actually check in with a paid professional from time to time), and she said I was awesome. I’m thinking about writing that on a piece of paper and framing it to hang on the wall in my office in place of a diploma. [I do have a diploma, but a BFA in Creative Writing does not instill confidence in my ability to reconcile QuickBooks accounts, thus the dilemma.]

So anyway, tax prep scares out of me The Bejeez and sends me into bouts of anxiety and self-doubt. So instead of writing, I spend my free time whining, napping, playing Zelda, eating chocolate, and drinking copious amounts of domestic beer. And on a good year, obsessing about post-season football, but nay twas not to be this time around.

Ah, but there is a light! March 15, it all comes to an end. Holy crap, that’s the ides of March. Even the IRS has a sense of humor. Sick bastards.

And oho! March 5 is my blogoversary! So goodbye taxes, hello writing! And the circle continues….

Please send cake. xoxo.

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