...and I've been workin' like a dog. Since 4 a.m. That 10 hours. Made MAJOR progress on clients' tax returns. Huge relief. There's more to do, but the lion's share is done. Now I have to extend mine. Gotta figure out how much I need to pay with my extension. I think I'll just pay as much as I can. Finally did March billing, but I need to do February, too. It's the cobbler's children who have no shoes. Putting off billing. Extending my own freakin' return.
I figure clients can see my lack of urgency in billing them in one of two ways.
1) I have plenty of cash so I won't be tempted to embezzle.
2) I have plenty of cash so I'm charging them too much.
Today, I swooped in to client's office. Started barking orders at Mikie. I was in major dyslexic state. We bickered (in a very good-natured way) like usual. I have to say, I was exuding CFO. Especially since I treated Mikie like my minion. And I wore a really cool outfit. All incredible thrift store finds. A black blouse with small white dots. Fits me perfectly. In fact, the dots form an optical illusion and exaggerate my proportions. So my boobies look bigger and my waste looks smaller. Light green skirt which doesn't make my whiter than white legs glow. Cute sandals. My black pebble-grain leather tote. I'm not good with transitional clothes but I think this was appropriate. I almost wore corduroy and wool since the house was a frigid 67 degrees (trying to please The D after last night's Thermostat Rant.)
The nice thing is that they try to minimize my time since Mikie is: a) cheaper than me, and b) better than me. Dammit. Gotta get that non-compete. We're a great team and I have a very happy client.
Back to my dyslexia. The parking lot was full so I had to park in the back of the building. There are two look-a-like buildings adjacent to each other. I parked behind the wrong building. Went in the back door and thought the hallway didn't look right. I was happy to see recycle bins, though. Then a man appeared. He looked kinda like Wilford Brimley in The Firm. I asked him where my client was. He'd never heard of my client. Wow, I was confused. I said they must be in the building next door. He asked me how I'd gotten in. He looked like he was ready to draw a weapon. I told him I came in the back door, and I sashayed to the front door. He seemed shocked. When I got to the front door, it was locked. He said he'd let me out. Didn't unlock it by turning the latch - disappeared to some mysterious control room to unlock it with some sort of high-security device. I'm sure he had all kinds of security cameras ogling me. Glad I was in a cute outfit.
I said, "Ha, I guess you had a security breach!" He said, "Yes. Thank you." He wasn't amused. I have a feeling some poor schmuck employee went away today.
When I made it safely to my destination, I told my story and asked my client what that company was about. They didn't know. Our only exposure to them was the warning notices tucked under our windshields telling us, in no uncertain terms, not to park in their spaces. That's the only frickin' reason I parked in the back of the building instead of all the empty spaces in front. I told my client that they had "Be Kind" emblazoned on their vehicles. Strange.
Rewind to 4:30 this morning. I couldn't find my favorite leather satchel which held my client's tax returns and signed checks. Decided to head to The Good House. Couldn't find it. Tested the motion detector lights and took the recycle bins to the street.
Traveled the 9/10 mile back home. Still couldn't find satchel. Remembered that it was in the mini-van at Good House. Headed back. Sure 'nuf, there it was. Thank god.
The D got up at 6:45. Way early for him. Too early for me. He asked me about our neighbor he wants to till his vegetable garden at Good House. I told him to look for him and ask him. Nothing about the temp. Since I was shivering, I turned it up to 71. He berated me for the lack of clean coffee mugs. I have a million but Sarita's moved most of them to Good House. I washed a dirty one and he found something else and sulked. Refused to wait for the one I was washing.
Called FF since I didn't hear my fucked up cell phone ring last night. We had a nice little convo, I let myself crush on him a little, and then I got back to work.
Got a sweet email from my iced-tea snorting friend (just when she reads my blog.) This time, she said she peed her pants. Greatest compliment ever! For some strange reason, she's reluctant to post a comment. Go figure.
I think that covers it. But I'm sure I've left lots out. Like The D stepping in cat barf. My stepping in cat barf. Deb coming up with her latest idea for a lawsuit.
But the day is young. I'm sure I'll have more to report later. For now, I'm signing off...
Welcome to my world!
My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...