The Magical Time of Year

It is tax season!

Bliz has decided to celebrate this notable occasion in Florida for the next few weeks playing with a very large Mouse and riding a monorail (Marty is a bit green). I have some serious anxiety that the cost of her vacation will probably come very close to the cost of my bookkeeping bill.

My accountant is doing his part by hanging out in Oregon. I will be doing my part to stimulate Green Peace protests by sending the equivalent of a small rain forest of papers to him, via every conceivable method available. I am not above sending tax statements via carrier pigeon if I can get a discount.

My job will be to act as the conduit by being the one who gets everything together for these well meaning folks. But, between you and me, accounting--or anything that structured and organized--is not my forte. And--pardon me while I have a pity party--I don't even get paid for my contribution.

Mr. Partner will be doing his part by riding all of us with weekly, daily and hourly calls wondering why we aren't getting him the necessary documentation so he can file his taxes. As far as I am concerned, he has no reason to complain this year. He is getting some great tax deductions.