April 17th, 2009



Back from the dead, I am. But I am still among them. So I must be a zombie. Guard your brains, cause I haven't got any of my own left.

A truly taxing season this year. Some good talks with clients, some really fun returns. (The former is not a complete sentence, my writing editor informs me.) There were a few last minute glitches with information, questions, errors. Returns out of town did not go out as early as I would have liked. And my biggest failure, in my personal yardstick for the season, is that my returns are on extension. I haven't had to do that in years.

The 15th is usually a quiet day for me, just a couple of phone calls. This year, I had to schedule a meeting for a return that should have gone out a month ago (on extension). It was a great meeting, but it ate up the morning. Then I had to drive to meet the last client, get his signature, mail his return. He's the only client I would do that for. And he's not my traditional last client. No, I did *his* return on Monday the 13th. And had a wonderful time with him. I delivered his return the next day. He always has everything laid out for me on his dining room table and we go through the return item by item. It's a ritual and we both enjoy it. Then I take my honking laptop home and print out his returns, review them, tweak the underpayment forms, sign and staple them. I deliver them to him the next day, the 14th or 15th. Then I'm supposed to be finished. And that's when I usually finalize my own return.

So yesterday, I began organizing the information for my first return. Considering how tired I am, how unfocused, how often I stopped to blip music (http://blip.fm/oz_drummond) and carry on "conversations" with other DJ's, I did pretty well. I'm ready to input numbers.

I also went to the bank to make a deposit. That's the fun part of this.

As for writing, it's been a while. I go to Tucson on Sat, to my happy place, and live in a doublewide for a week. I'm supposed to write all week. "But I don't FEEL like writing!" I can hear myself whine. Sigh. Every year I have trouble with the switch. I have trouble switching to tax mode and trouble switching back. I'm hoping a week in Tucson will help the shift, help kill the zombie feeling.

A client called last night with a sob story about their dog-walker and how this person needed a tax preparer to do their S-Corp return (due March 15th) and their individual return (needed for student financial aid, usually in Feb). There were real reasons they needed help. And time was of the essence, I could tell that. I felt bad that this unknown person's life had spun out of control (I'll leave those details out, but it was serious). But among other issues, I was going to be gone for a week. And right now, I'm not in a hurry to do much of anything except some remedial vacuuming.

I had the sense to say no. But thank you for thinking of me.

Tucson calls. Horses call. Sleep calls. Writing? Oh all right. I'll think about it.

Frog Out