Check this out.....

Ang has been nice enough to complement my writing, so I'm improving my blog by adding a link to her. Most of the people who drop in here come from Sua Sponte, or from The Paper Chase, or from liable, or from moxie. All of these blogs are great reads (check out liable's comments on today's post), and I think they deserve a thank you from me for their support.

But I would be remiss to ignore fish, whom several of my friends like, or a mad-tea party (listed as Alice on the links page), who was recently listed as one of the top 50 interesting newcomers on Technorati, and for good reason.

There's more good stuff.....just check out the links page.

People are funny..

There's a lot going on around here in the Finance Department. Today is T's 50th birthday. Tomorrow is D's birthday.

T is rather nonchalant about the whole matter. Every day T goes to the company cafe for lunch, and buys a salad. But today is a big occasion - the big 5-0. So T is celebrating by taking a half day, and having a quiet dinner with the wife.

Not D. She had to let everyone know that tomorrow is her birthday, and they all must go out for it. God forbid anyone cancelled, because the full pouting mode would begin. In fact, her boss, P, was in a meeting with his boss, R, and she stood at the corner of P's cube, waiting for him to finish. Finally P looked over and said "go ahead, I'll catch up with you." After they were done, he told R that he was going to lunch, which prompted a wry, I-feel-sorry-for-you smile from R. D is one obnoxious person, who more than once has interrupted a co-worker's meeting with R for some issue that she just had to deal with at that moment. The funny thing is she makes numerous derogatory comments about me, but no one here really likes or respects her, for obvious reasons. I can't stand her, but it's mostly because of what went on between my ex-roommate and her, which I may blog about someday, but not today.

On another topic....

We are at T minus 5 for Contracts finals. I've resorted to pulling out my CPA review tape and listening to Harry talk about Contracts. It's from 1995, but remarkably, still accurate. Eight years hasn't changed much in the law. And Harry Wright is much more entertaining to listen to than Professor Contracts. Several of my classmates, who lack full-time jobs, went to a review course for the day students, and came back talking about how poorly Professor Contracts had done in instructing us. Of course, Professor Contracts has to compete with Professor Civ Pro (who would have been Professor Bus Org, had I not forgotten to register until 11 a.m. yesterday), who is one of the most dynamic professors I've had. He ranks up there with Harry in teaching style, engagement of students, and ability to make you remember even the most mundane details about filing a pleading. I'm still trying to change my Bus Org class, and if I can't get in legally, I may just go anyway...

Responding to others' blogs.......

Dawn argues that "[t]he safest family environment for a child is a home in which the biological parents are married. Contrary to current theory about the effects of marriage on children, recent research demonstrates that marriage provides a safe environment for all family members, one in which child abuse and fatality are lowered dramatically." Joanie counters that "90% of the children brought in to the hospital [where she works] suffering from child abuse are from homes where mom and dad are married and living together."

I have no experience in being a husband or a parent, but I'll still say this: You live what you know. I recently went out for drinks with a few classmates, and came to a realization: all four of us had parents who were involved in our lives cared about what we did, and encouraged us to pursue our dreams. And for the most part, we all turned out well.

No one is perfect, and we all have our flaws, but my guess is that both Dawn and Joanie are right. Where the biological parents are still married, and had happy childhoods, the children are well adjusted and happy. But those parents never wind up in divorce court, and are usually successful. Hence, no social issue.

But where there have been problems in the parents childhood, those problems will manifest themselves again when the parent has their own children (clear as mud?). If you're abusing your children, they'll abuse theirs. If you smoke in front of them, they'll smoke. I could go on and on. This is a subtle form of addiction, breakable only when someone makes the conscious decision to break the cycle. Until that happens, the behaviour will continue. We've all known children afraid to talk about sex, because that's "dirty". Usually, these people either meet enablers or become enablers themselves, so the cycle continues.

I agree with Dawn. There is a social problem out there. But there is no one cure-all panecea which will solve the problem, no metaphorical bomb we can drop to make it all go away. It has to start with the parents themselves - get involved in your children's lives, and don't be afraid to discipline them when they need it ("Honey, please don't do that" is NOT discipline - be firmer). But know when to back off, and know the difference between discipline and abuse. Teach them morals and values, and exhibit the behaviour you want them to exhibit. If you show respect for others, they'll learn to be respectful. And yes, you'll make mistakes; we all do. But if you feel the urge to punch your six-year-old, see a psychiatrist.

Limited time offer......

Today H took me out for some drinks, because he's leaving tomorrow on vacation and can't join the drinkfest. His boss came too. I like them both, and have a lot of respect for both of them. I've kept in touch with someone from every job I've worked at, and hopefully they'll stay in touch.

Speaking of which, one of the eight Jens I know called me today - after a year of not hearing from her. She called to invite me to her wedding, but unfortunately, it's after I leave for Rome, so I won't be able to go. Too bad. I haven't seen her in a while, and it would be nice to see her.

Yesterday was the oldest nephew's confirmation. It went fairly well, and the bishop was actually entertaining. He was a Chicago boy through and through - right down to his mannerisms and the way he talked. The church is a new church, just built in the last year, but the pews were damn uncomfortable, and it was very stuffy inside - they obviously forgot ceiling fans to generate airflow. Afterward, they offered refreshments. I thought we'd get some, chit chat a bit then head back to my sisters, which we did, but not without my oldest nephew becoming Oscar the Grouch. Man, did he get pissy. It was embarrassing. I just wanted to leave. It was too bad. Mom wanted to get ice cream or rice pudding, but he spoiled the fun mood. Which made me sad and angry - sad because my Mom was just trying to make a nice evening, and angry because he had no good reason for this.

I start turnover tomorrow. Six more days.

Tick………tick………….tick…………..

Well, things are winding down. There are now eight (not counting today) days left in my career here (though I could wind up like Milton in Office Space if I don’t remember to tell HR I’m leaving). And school is all but over except for finals, which are the 14th and the 19th. Oh sure, there’s a Contracts review session tomorrow, but I won’t be there because it’s the oldest nephew’s confirmation.

When I was a teenager, I used to think that my parents didn’t understand me. But now that I’m older, I realize that it’s the other way around – teenagers don’t understand what it’s like to be an adult. And they never will, because it’s an understanding that you don’t get until you’re there, and then it’s too late to go back. Only then do you appreciate the benefits of ignorance.

My oldest nephew lacks motivation. He’s perfectly content to do nothing. One of his classmates, upon noticing the instructor had misspelled his confirmation name, asked my nephew to get the attention of the girl in charge fixing such errors. My nephew called this girl’s name out in a voice barely audible to me, sitting right next to him, much less someone three rows away, as she was. The classmate finally got help from someone two rows in front of us, who overheard him asking for help and called the girl over.

I feel sorry for him, because I think he’s greatly influenced by his father, who brags about his third grade education, and how well he’s done for himself. Let’s review that, shall we? He lives in a house he doesn’t own, drives an on-its-last-legs car because he (a) can’t afford and (b) can’t get a loan for a new one, has twice been cited by the city where he lives for having vehicles rusting away on the lawn in front of his house (and complained that they ‘have it in” for him as a result), has promised to by a car for both kids when they turn 16 (and told the oldest that the beat up, rusting deathtrap 1989 MR2 was for him, but then traded it for a tractor, and said he’d get that instead), and works as a maintenance man for a grocery chain, because he lost every other job he had and his own business ‘never took off’ (which it won’t when you make 8 a.m. appointments, and don’t show for them, or when you don’t answer your pager).

My nephew won’t hesitate to tell you his plans to play college and pro football, but apparently he missed the requirements that you (a) pass your classes, (b) stand taller than 5’9” and (c) actually make the teams. Kind of like the tax client I had this year who told me that she inspired her boyfriend to go back to college. When I asked her what he went back to do, she told me “he’s gonna be an NBA player.” Again, the fact that he was 5’8”, 28 years old, and playing on a juco team didn’t seem to be a deterrent, because “he’s got some real good moves.” Yeah, so does the 12th man on every NBA team.

Anyway………

It’s strange to be winding down. When you go to law school open houses, they tell you that you really bond with your classmates, and to an extent it’s true. But there are barriers. The suburban people (like me) are limited, since they have to drive back out to the suburbs, and can’t hang around like the city people do. Take last night, for example. John, Heather, Christine, Aaron, Mark and I all went for drinks. Heather left when her stalker showed up (according to her, they’re just friends, but from what she told me, she’d better be careful). I left when I realized (a) it was getting late (b) I’m still gainfully employed, and needed to be at work somewhat close to on time (c) I had a thirty-five minute drive home and (d) I was getting tired. The others were still there, rehashing their briefs, agonizing over trivial errors (I can’t imagine that in practice all briefs are perfectly written) and rationalizing that the Moot Court committee won’t notice that they didn’t underline a case name, or missed a period, or spelled behaviour with a ‘u’ as the British (and I) do.

And then there was eleven.........

Or zero. Depends on if you're counting classes left, or workdays left. The first is zero. Tonight's it. The last Contracts class, ever (thank God!). We've all suffered enough.

Not that class was all that bad, but it could have been better. A little less emphasis on the minutiae of each case, and a little more emphasis on things to know when you practice.The most helpful comment came when Professor Contract's husband taught, and corrected a classmate who said the price of an item should be $76. "You'd never say that in practice," he chided, "because you'd be admitting the price was $76. The price is $44, and you don't know where $76 came from." An important insight easily overlooked by a new attorney. And if one were unfortunate enough to be matched with a saavy, older attorney - you'd be toast, and your client would be pissed. This is the kind of stuff we all wanted to know, but never really learned.

As for workdays, well, we're down to eleven. And today wasn't half bad. Hopefully, my journals will clear tomorrow, and I'll be able to book something. Otherwise, it will be a lousy weekend. But the promising thing is that I can now run reports and get information, which is a marked improvement over last night.

The downside to this quitting thing is that I know a lot of people around here. In fact, if they all come out next Friday (my original last day), there will be almost 80 people at my going-away party. That's not a bad turn-out. But I digress. I've gotten lots of emails and phone calls, not to mention people stopping me in the hall, in the coffee room and elsewhere to ask me about this.

I've learned there are three types of people:
The ones who wish you well superficially, while questioning your sanity.

The ones who wish you well sincerely, smile, shake your hand or pat you on the back and say keep in touch (and mean it).

The ones who wish you well with that look in their eye - the look that says they wish they were you, getting out and finding a new (and theoretically better) life, and not stuck in a job they are handcuffed by salary and/or benefit to. I feel sorry for these people. They feel trapped in their lives, and ultimately are miserable, punching the clock every day until retirement, when they hope to be able to do all they really wanted. But what if they're not able? What if arthritis robs them of the ability to walk? Or a heart condition confines them to limited activity? Or worse? What then?

The worst three words you can say consecutively are I should have. I know, because I've said them. I should have never broken up with Brenda Keller back in high school. I should have called Jeanette Beauregard that summer between my junior and senior year at NIU. Foolish me.....

I've said I should have enough in my life. I'm trying not to say it anymore, but I know I'll fail somewhere along the line. Right now, though, I can pursue my dream. I said I should have for ten years, between the first time I took the LSAT, and the second. That's long enough.

What are you saying I should have to?

And the countdown continues…….

Things around work are getting frustrating. I keep running report after report, and get nothing that I can use for month end. I’m at the point of saying that I’m not doing any accruals, simply because I can’t find the info I need. I’m not alone on this, either. None of the other support accountants can get anything they need, either. And the level of annoyance just builds. This month end is going to be horrible.

As for the countdown, I should be on seven, as in seven days left. But it’s now twelve, after the Director of Accounting asked me to extend my stay here by a week to help in transitioning stuff over. Since I have no desire to burn bridges, and since I harbor no real ill will, I chucked the plans for finals study marathons and said ok. The one caveat is that I am taking the 14th off for my Contracts final. Besides, who am I to complain about getting an additional week’s pay?

The sad thing, really, is that I’m not being replaced. Miguel and Ron get more work, as does Jose, and no more thanks for the effort. When I told Lois who was replacing me, her first words were “what does he have?” And when I told her that Jose has Projects, she quickly mentioned that he’d never have time for her department. Probably true, which is too bad, because in the year I’ve been their accountant, they’ve gotten a good understanding for what’s going on.

In other news…..

Well, my lucky streak ran out. I’ve never been called on in Contracts, simply because I believed (correctly) my last name was a bit of a challenge for Professor Contracts. As it turns out, I was right, but she gave it a shot on Monday. Two other people have passed in her class (by saying “pass”, as a matter of fact) and have been the first people called on the next class period.

So on Monday, when the prof called on me, I wasn’t prepared. And I said so. Well, actually, when she asked me to give the facts of the case, I said, “I have no idea. I didn’t read that case.” After class, everyone was warning me that I’d better read up for tonight’s class. Too bad that it’s month end and that I’ll likely be late to class, if I go at all. Right now, leaving on a good note is much better than leaving on a bad one. Who knows when I might need a good word.

Putting in a good word…..

Speaking of putting in a good word, I’ve noticed a few other blogs have linked me, which is always appreciated. However, I’ve only noticed by tripping across them on my travels elsewhere. If you want to link to me, feel free. I won’t object. But send me an email so I can return the favor. Tomorrow, I’ll feature some of the fine people who’ve thought enough of what I write to include a link to my site. Don’t miss out – send me an email, or post a comment, and I’ll give you a plug too.

You know how it is. You see things how you want them in your mind's eye, and then....reality sets in. Case in point: Saturday's oral arguments at the Daley Center. I envisioned myself as eloquent, knowledgeable, and able to field every question. Things didn't quite turn out that way. As evidence, I offer the following (we spoke in front of a two judge panel):

Judge A (to Chad, counsel for plaintiff): Thank you counsel. At this time, I'd like to rebuke counsel for defense (me) for failing to ask for rebuttal time......

Me (thinking): Holy Shit. Holy Shit. How did I do that? I swore I asked for rebuttal time. And here I've been, like a fool planning my rebuttal! And Chad cited Lindgren v. Moore, the facts of which almost perfectly dovetail the facts in this case, and I need to distinguish it! Oh no.........how can I be so stupid......

Judge A (continuing): .....and you won't make that mistake again, will you counsel?

Me: No your Honor.

Judge A: I imagine you'd like rebuttal time right about now, wouldn't you?

Me: Yes, your Honor, I had thought I'd asked for it. An oversight on my part.

Judge A: Would two minutes be sufficient?

Me (surprised at all hell that I'm getting this huge break): More than sufficient your Honor.

Judge A: You may proceed then.

Me (with volumes of gratitude): Thank you.

In the feedback section, the judges both pointed out my error, and used it to highlight the importance of asking for rebuttal time. On the positive side, Judge A commented my rebuttal was 'perfect' and did exactly what it was supposed to do - defeat Plaintiff's arguments. Judge B did chastise me for invoking sarcasm when I mentioned biofeedback, reminding me that you never know what the judge is into, and if his wife was big into biofeedback, I could have just blown a perfectly good argument. Both Chad and I earned marks for being the last to go, and handling the tough questions they asked with grace and poise and showing a real "mastery of the law." Afterward, Chad, Jen (a classmate in another section of legal writing) and I celebrated at Miller's Pub.

Onward and......upward?

I announced my resignation today. Two week notice. Well, not exactly two weeks, since May 9th is my last day. My boss said he was shocked, but understood. He said I'd probably shock a few other people as well. If I do, I'll be surprised. I told him that I was flexible, that I didn't want to put him in a bad spot. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I was nervous as hell all day. I told Mark on Friday, and Jim today, figuring that since I've been friends with both of them for 8 and 18 years, respectively, and knew both before they worked for the company, that they deserved that much. Jim was dying to find out how Ken reacted, figuring Ken would ask him when he know. I also told my old boss, and the two main people I support, before I worked up the courage to tell my boss.

We'll see what happens now. Any suggestions for living on $20K a year welcome.

Ok, when I saw this article I thought that the picture was taken at the wake, and I was wondering why her eyes were open. Then I read the caption........

I don't know if I want to be that old, if that's how I'll look.......

A rare day off....

Ok, so I should be doing homework, or laundry, or......any number of a thousand things. And in a way, I did. I went to the tax office and cleaned up some extension stuff. But more remains. Funny how things tend to drag after tax season. Clients no longer have the sense of urgency to get things done. And actually, that's probably why they got extended in the first place.

Easter was nice. I won't bore you with details, because nothing happened of note, but it was nice to spend time with my family in a relaxed, sort of, atmosphere. I think it has to do with the semester winding down; I still feel pressure to be doing 'something', even when I'm trying to relax. I think I'll finally relax on May 19.

One nice thing about tax season ending is the gift of time. With that, I was able to turn in a draft for the first time all semester. A full draft, no partials. How nice. Even better, I was able to horn in on my fellow classmate's oral argument practice last night and get some of my own. I'll get more tomorrow when we argue a faux motion for summary judgment. My big moment comes Saturday. The fun part will be arguing in the Daley Center. I'll have to grab the classmates who argued tonight (hence my day off) and find out how it went. Of the five of us who practiced last night, I think I was the only one who was going on Saturday. The rest went tonight. I was going to try to write on for the Consumer Law Review, but they only gave us a week to write a 15-page article, and I didn't get that much time as a gift. So I'll shoot for Moot Court tryouts on May 2nd. Of course, that's the day of my Mom's b-day party, but she'll understand. I'll just arrive a bit late.

Happy Easter, everybunny!

Nerve-wracked

Had dinner last night with the parents. They expressed concern over my switching to full-time. Primarily, they're worried that I am biting off a big chunk - possibly more than I can chew. My Mom's biggest worry, of course, is whether I'll have enough to eat. My father's worried about the debt load. And me? Well, the list of things I'm not worried about is much shorter than the list of what I am worried about. I'm worried about taking a huge risk that might not pay off. I'm worried that, in my effort to give myself more time to dedicate to school, I'll find that I'm still stressed out over time. I'm worried about moving yet again - this time into the city. I'm worried about where the hell I'm going to store the motorcycle. I'm worried about having enough money. I'm worried about being able to find a part-time job. I worry about how much the COBRA insurance is going to cost. I worry about whether the school's health insurance will cover me in the summer next year, or if I have to sweat out an entire summer without insurance. The list goes on.

In the front of my mind, I tell myself there's no reward without risk. I tell myself that it will all work out, that I'll get a job, and be successful. I tell myself that I have my CPA and MBA to fall back on, that if worse comes to worse, I can go back to what I do now.

Despite my best efforts, this is going to be a long week.

I went to school today to pick up some materials for my paper. Donna was there, studying in the student lounge. At first I didn't notice her, she was so quiet. We talked for a bit, until I remembered that I'd only put fifty cents in the meter, good for half an hour, and that time had almost expired. Fortunately, no ticket. And Donna offered to help me find a place when I get back from Rome. I told Donna I was absolutely terrified of what I'd planned to do. She suggested I give notice on Monday, or first thing on Friday morning, but I want to do it privately, so I had planned on waiting until Friday afternoon. Let me tell you - Friday is going to be the most stressful day of my life so far. I told Donna that at this point, it would be much easier to get married. And despite the fact that I've never been close, I pretty much meant it. Of course, Donna would be a perfect wife, which is probably why her husband married her......

Frustrated......

(I wanted to quote the song by The Knack here, but I'm too tired to get up, pull out the album (yes, I have Get the Knack on vinyl), and play it to refresh my memory on the lyrics. C'est la vie.)

We are now fully into Easter Break. But still, I don't get anything done that I should. The best laid plans....

So the nurse has fallen off the end of the earth. I called her last night, and left a message, but no return call. She was nice, but truthfully, I don't think there was long term potential there. Too many 'odd' things about her. I won't go into them, but suffice to say, I wasn't totally comfortable. Plus, our schedules never meshed. I was available, she was busy. She was available, I was busy. But usually the former. And the warning flag was 'plans' last weekend, even though she had just come back from a week in Mexico. Maybe, I'll be surprised, but I doubt it.

So ladies, I am once again available for dating. Oh, wait, I was never "off" the market. Well, anyway, we here at Chez Greg are again accepting applications for potential girlfriends. Don't delay - this offer is guaranteed not to last long! Applicants must be able to tolerate fact that I will be gone for two months this summer, and will be unemployed (partially, at least) for much of the next two years. On the other hand.....I will have a nice job, hopefully.

I tried to book the flight to London tonight, but no luck. I had hurriedly signed up with Student Universe a while back, and foolishly forgot to write down my ID and password. Now I'm in a holding pattern, waiting for them to answer me back.

Had a conference with the Legal Writing instructor. Went well. She complimented me, which boosted my confidence. It had been lagging after writing this brief, but I feel better now.

The real issue is how tired I am right now. I am just SO not motivated. I could have slept all day, for what it was worth. And I spent most of the day at work screwing around aimlessly. I think the real issue is burnout, which I need to fight through and overcome. Otherwise, I'll get bounced before I fly away. Not a good thing. S told me she hasn't heard anything from the IBABY people either. Wonder what's taking them so long to do this background check.

Oh.
My.
God.
The couple on Blind Date is seeing a psychic. Pathetic. But then, I'm (partially) watching it, so what does it say about me? That there's nothing good on TV? yeah, that's it....

Ok, I'm having verklempt. Miracle Whip is neither a miracle, nor whipped. Discuss amongst yourselves. I'm going to bed.

A tax day story...

The scene wasn't an unfamiliar one. He was single, he lived alone. She, too, was single, lived alone. They differed in age by only a few years, and in height by only a few inches. They weren't in love, but good friends. She knew she could trust him, knew he'd look out for her, knew he'd do his best to help her out.

The ex hadn't been kind; there'd been words, volleys of hate which had signalled the death of the relationship in a violent, verbal spasm. It hadn't involved physical abuse, just a growing apart of two individuals who never grew together.

But the transition wasn't easy. He had done some things naturally, and she others. That which he did, she could do, but she could never understand them like he could, and he didn't understand them well himself. So they lingered. For years. First she promised she'd tackle them herself, then she swore she'd get them done, but all the while they lingered while time slipped quietly by.

Then she met him. And they became friends, occasionally sharing a drink, but more often an email, a phone call. Hi how are you, she'd ask, knowing that this time of year the question would be greated with a scoff, as he'd complain about the long hours, the stupid clients, and the tyrannical boss so evil, the staff ran an annual pool to see how long the front desk girl would last. This year, he'd told her he'd added law school to his to do list - a way of forgetting by punishment the woman who'd hurt him. And this year she'd needed him more than ever; her time was running out, and she needed the money.

She had called him and asked of his precious time. She only needed a night, she said, and she'd cook him dinner. Like any single guy who lived alone, the prospect of a home-cooked meal by anyone other than himself, some good company, and companionship for an evening was enough to entice him to make the hour-long drive to see her. He came over after eight, after a long day of work (even if it was Saturday), and greeted her with a smile. She started by informing him she didn't have any salad, or any bread, or any parmesean cheese. Good egg that he was (and how the women in his class described him), he offered to drive her to the store.

When they came back, she got serious about the dinner. She made sure the sauce, simmering all day, was just right - not too blah, not too spicy. She threw the angel hair pasta into the boiling water. She buttered the bread - sticking her tongue out at him when he asked how many cows she planned to kill to butter two sides of french bread. And when it was ready, she opened the oven, now thoroughly preheated, and went to toss in the bread to bake.

But she'd forgotten about the baking pans. And the knife. The wooden knife, now smoking as it had begun to singe. He laughed heartily, the laugh of someone who was under tremendous stress and hadn't had an outlet in weeks. She laughed in reaction, and tried to hide her embarrassment. But he wasn't embarrassed, he found it charming, her attempt to step out of character and be Susie Homemaker. Fortunately, the rest of dinner went well, and a few days later, he sent her a lovely present - her tax return, complete with refund. And she promised to make him steak next year. Without the knife.

Happy April 15th!!!!

The Friday Five, one day late (I'm always late, so for me it's on time):

1. What was the first band you saw in concert? Well, I won tix to see the Beach Boys when I was 13. But the first one I paid for was AC/DC. A very cool show. I couldn't hear for a week.

2. Who is your favorite artist/band now? Well, believe it or not, I still like AC/DC. But the Bon Scott version. Not the Brian Johnson version. Not any album after Back in Black. My tastes also run to Peter Gabriel, Bruce Springsteen, U2, Sinatra.......actually, they're all over the place. It depends on my mood - happy, sad, angry.....

3. What's your favorite song? See number #2. But some perennial faves: Lips Like Sugar (Echo & the Bunnymen), Blue Jean (Bowie), Under Pressure (Bowie & Queen), One Tree Hill (U2), Badlands (Bruce)....there's more, but I'm tired.

4. If you could play any instrument, what would it be? Guitar. But I'd rather sing. Singers get the girls. Accountants get the tax returns.

5. If you could meet any musical icon (past or present), who would it be and why? Elvis. Just to ask him what the fuck was he thinking?

So it's over.

But it's not.

But it is.

Huh?

Ok, so for all intents and purposes, my tax season is over. But there's those pesky extensions. Some are like P - they are actually done, but they owe, and they don't have the money, so they extend. Others are like D&C - they never give me everything they need to for me to finish. If they did, it wouldn't be an issue.

For as close as we are to April 15th, I had only 3 real appointments today. I expected more. Like, a full day. I managed to fill the day anyway, toiling away on yet another return where all the documents aren't included. Another extension, this one because the client doesn't call me back. Another client frets because we didn't include union dues, but since that's subject to a 2% floor, he won't be able to deduct them anyway. A parent is miffed because their daughter wasn't ready in time to join the parent at the office so I could do a two-for-one (two returns in one hour). Instead, she has to make a separate trip. I seriously underbill, expecting to get a tirade from the boss but it took me all of eight minutes to do her 1040EZ, so should I charge her the hour rate?

Meanwhile, the regular job has become a drag. Or maybe it's just burnout raising it's ugly head. I feel just totally lackluster this week, and don't really accomplish anything. At the tax office, I mope. At home, my apartment beckons, begging me to clean it. It's a filthy mess. I realize that it's been two years since I actually took a vacation. I want to sleep all day. I have over 100 emails in all of my inboxes, because I'm too lazy to clear them out. Blah.

I've just wasted 30 minutes surfing websites of people who are asking visitors to give them cash to pay various bills. I think I've seen everything now. Some of these people actually have succeeded. Others have gotten token amounts. I find it amazing that such a scheme works. Maybe I should start my own. Everybody send me a dollar, and help me pay for law school. Heck, I only need.......uh.......a hundred and twenty-seven thousand people to do that! Cool! So what are you waiting for? Be one of the first? Then I won't have this huge stress of HAVING to get the big bucks job, and I can do public interest law!!!

Thank god it’s the last week of tax season. I’m ready for it to be over. In fact, the weather and tax season can both take their leave of me now. I don’t need this frigid, arctic weather, and I would like my weekends back. As if it were somehow divined, I’ve suddenly come into a flood of personal tax clients. Of course, no one wants to do it early. It’s something I’ve never understood. Those who are getting their money back file early, and those who are paying not only file late, they prepare late, too. Now, I understand the wait-until-the-last-minute-to-pay thing. But it never fails that over half those people know they’re going to owe a substantial amount of money, but wait anyway, then fret about how much they owe, and “where am I going to get all this money?” It never dawns on them (even when I’ve told them time and time again) that if they prepared their return in January, the “where am I going to get the money?” question would have been much easier to answer. Sure, it wouldn’t reduce what they owe (that would have taken their thinking ahead before they take the money out of their 401(k)), but at least they wouldn’t find themselves in a cash crunch. Or better yet, like the guy, four years or so ago, who sat telling me all about the vacation he was planning for himself and his wife while I plugged away at his return. When I got done, he owed something like fifteen hundred dollars, because he’d taken a huge chunk of his 401(k) “to pay bills and other stuff” and, of course, was under 59 ½, and so incurred the 10% penalty. Of course I asked how he was going to pay for this wonderful vacation, and he responded, “with my refund. It’s my savings account.” Now, why you’d want a non-interest-bearing savings account is beyond me (although that’s pretty much what any passbook-style savings account is anymore), but plenty of people over-withhold and treat their tax refund as a windfall, instead of being a bit more prudent with their money all year long. Anyway, this guy was one of those people, and he was quite upset when I responded with “not this year. You owe.” And this guy was a big, biker-looking dude. And he was pissed. But there was nothing I could do – it was all his own doing. Needless to say, he didn’t come back the next year.

Saturday Entertainment, or how I survive tax season...


Recent searches which have lead people here:

1. Blog+lawisfun (Thanks! Just mark me as a favorite...)2. Officer caught having sex
3. Bar character & fitness
4. Demon dogs + CTA (referring to the flap between Demon Dogs hot dog stand and the CTA)
5. New Lenox & ugly
6. Fun for George Bush
7. Having sex with dog is considered (this guy came from the UK. Makes me wonder about people there.)
8. Hot couple having sex (nobody I know would fit that description, me included. Sorry.)
9. Law student + smoker
10. Tax law blogs (no, no, no. This is SO wrong...what a boring blog that would be)
11.New Lenox Mustangs (go Mustangs!!)
12. Desire to fuck my mother-in-law. (I'm sorry. Can I recommend a therapist? I have one as a client...)
13. Caught having sex. (Should I be noticing a theme here??)

I can just imagine the disappointment all those who came here to find a cheap thrill, only to find this blog. No, I can't. Wonder how many of them were doing this on company time??

While I can't help on the "hot couple having sex" thing, I can recommend a beautiful, intelligent woman's blog. And if you're (1) in California and (2) hiring (and not for something sleazy, either), she'd make a fine addition to your staff.

The premiere (here, at least) of the Friday Five:

1. How many houses/apartments have you lived in throughout your life? Three houses, two apartments. One house was with a friend who rented me a room. The other two were my parent's.

2. Which was your favorite and why? Apartment #1. It had a great view. I'll overlook the fact that it had no overhead cover, was located just below the elevator's ventilation shaft opening, and that that was like Club Med for pigeons, so that my balcony was always covered in pigeon crap. For six weeks, at least, I had a nice eighth floor apartment, with a great view. So what if the elevators only worked half the time? Details.

3. Do you find moving house more exciting or stressful? Why? Stressful. Who doesn't? Packing all that crap up, then unpacking? Yuck.

4. What's more important, location or price? Ummm....location always costs big money 'round here. So, price comes first. Who cares if you have a great view of Lake Shore Drive if you have no furniture, and no money?

5. What features does your dream house have (pool, spa bath, big yard, etc.)? A BASEMENT! Although I'll admit, I'd also like a nice downtown place with a view. And a big, honkin', palatial house with a huge garage, a huge basement, and a yard that takes TWO landscape companies to mow. And a pool. And..........well, I could go on, but first I need the cash.......

I love my job, I love my job........

How many times do I need to say that before I truly believe it? Ok, my job isnt that bad, but it can be frustrating, especially around this time of the month. The third, fourth and fifth workdays are always stressful, since they mark the end of the month-end close period. Today was no different. As usual, I was up against the wall, having discovered a crucial issue shortly before final numbers were supposed to be posted. And as one would expect, I committed the ultimate sin - I made a mistake. Not a big one, but here in LaLa Land, all my errors are major. Fortunately, I wasn't alone, so it may get overlooked. Or else I'll get slammed in November again, as was the case last year. Got hauled into a meeting and told that a letter was going into my personnel file because I'd failed to adequately support my departments - in September. Actually, it was stuff related to August. Never mind that I was learning an entirely new position (and basically, no more knowledgeable than a new hire) or that I didn't want the position in the first place; no, the benefit to this sandbagging was that they could justify a lower bonus and merit increase, and thereby come in under budget for the year.

You know, my job is that bad.

So why do I fret over whether I should switch to full time or not?