This morning came way too quickly. Weekends, precious as they are, go by so fast, I hardly notice them. Before I know it, it’s Monday, and I’m praying for the relief of the weekend.

Weekends are my time for sleep; during the week, my day usually begins around 5:00a.m. when I get up and head to the health club. Work starts at 7:30, which gives me time for a quick workout, shower, and (usually) breakfast. Since I only live a mile or so from work I usually come home for an hour at lunch. Then it’s back to work until 4:30, or on a good day 4:00. From work, I have the pleasure of an hour trip to downtown Chicago. If it’s a good day, I get time to relax and enjoy a meal. If it’s a bad day, I get whatever I can ‘to go’ (or ‘take away’ as the Brits would say). Class goes until 9, at which time I either hop in the car (if I drove), or on the shuttle bus (if I took the train). I finally drag myself back in the door sometime between 10 and 10:30. With some wind-down time, I usually crawl into bed sometime around 11 or 11:30.

This routine makes for both a long week, and a quick week. Long, because right now, Friday night (the only night I don’t have class) seems SO far away; quick, because it’ll be here before I realize, and I have to hope that I get everything done that I need to, because once Monday starts, the week seems like a blur.

This is what every CPA calls “Tax Season”, as if there was such a thing. The period between January 1 and April 15 is the most insane time of year if you’re an accountant. It’s the time of reckoning for people who’ve done everything you’ve told them not to. Tell them not to touch that IRA money, and they’ll take it out. Tell them not to buy or sell the same type of stock within 30 days (lest they violate the wash sale rule) and guess what? Hey, c’mon, it was bound to go up, right? I got a hot tip!

Usually, I spend two nights a week and Saturday at a small CPA firm. The other nights, I might go into the office, or I might head out to work on a friend’s tax return. The latter puts me into the class my boss at the firm derogatorily calls “kitchen table preparers.” Either way, it’s extra money that allows me to go on vacation, buy more CDs, a new VCR, or, in the Laura days, take her out for a night on the town, drinks in the Hancock included. Hey, what’s $130 when you spend the night looking into the eyes of someone you think is wonderful? A shitload when she dumps you a few months later, that’s what.

Anyway, law school has disrupted this lovely routine. I can’t go in the office two nights a week; I’m in school four. That leaves Friday night and Saturday. I can’t do Sunday as well – I need to do homework sometime. And laundry. And clean the apartment. And…..all those friends who are asking me to do their tax work.

Right now, I feel like I’m at the bottom of a mountain looking up. I spent all day today writing a research memo; I didn’t read a whit of Civil Procedure or Contracts. That’s ok to some extent – I’m ahead on the reading in both. But next Saturday is totally shot, and my sister called me and told me to be over her house on Sunday for my oldest nephews birthday dinner. I’m staring at about 10 shirts that need to be ironed, and a week’s worth of laundry will build up before I blink. Not to mention homework, and….yes, I promised my friend Cathi that I’d do their taxes next week.

Sigh. Only 74 more days until April 15th. Unless I start doing extensions.