Death and Taxes

The morning sky was stormy and grey but the sun had broken through by noon, although it never did get warm. Someone left a yellow bag tied to the front door – a collection bag for the ARC or some such – and I kept forgetting it was there until it blew into the frame of the front windows and Cleo barked at it. Die yellow bag, she says.

I spent the morning battling for the funding of a loan. It is now funded and not, all at once. Specifically, the funder likes me, so funded it on paper to save the lock, but the wire won’t go out til morning. Is it possible to both love what you do and hate what you do, at once? I’m GOOD at my job, but it’s no longer rewarding.

In church on Sunday there was a dour grey-haired old lady in a shiny pink polyester dress – she looked so much like Bubbie with her wispy grey hair and her dusky olive skin, and apparent fragility. I wonder if she, too, had a core of steel.

I’m in tax hell, having waited this long to do a P&L on my income and expenses. The good news is that the outlay for new printers is giving me a loss on paper, which will offset stray 1099’d income from other sources. I COULD amortize the equipment, and allow for depreciation, but I don’t need to, as there won’t be any misc income next year, since I’m not originating, merely processing.

There’s just no way to make tax talk remotely interesting.

Or death either.