Taxed to the Max

My taxes aren't done. It is a long story and it boils down to MY TAXES AREN'T DONE. I don't need to hear, "well take them somewhere else..." I get that. With severing a business half way through the year--something I consulted experts to make sure was doable--it makes the tax situation very tricky. It is better if I stick with where I am now. If I started over with my taxes I would have to explain to a new accountant everything and it would probably take longer than what I hope is a short-term issue. With any luck, my taxes will be done tomorrow.

My expectations were such that I expected them to be completed by the end of February, because I purposely gave all of the 8 x 10 colored glossies, receipts and spreadsheets to Diamond Jim before President's Day. Then my expectation was I would have them one of the twelve times he told me I would get them. Then my expectation was I would get them by Tax Day. Last week, when I picked Diamond Jim up from the airport, my refreshed CPA told me "Friday, at the latest." Friday morning at 7:10 he left me a message saying, "Wednesday at the latest." I countered back with MONDAY.

Today, for those of you who don't have a calendar nearby happens to be said Monday. I did see him. I even spent an hour in Diamond Jim's office, chatting merrily and going over everything because getting downright pissed doesn't get these taxes done any faster. But, for the sake of disclosure, let's just say, my stomach lining is burned through. He now promised tomorrow night. I told him 11 tomorrow morning. At 11:01 tomorrow morning I better have taxes or a jury of my peers.

I am not angry at Diamond Jim. Frustrated, yes. He is 14 years older than when we started this accidental business. This tax season was difficult on him. He forgot things he shouldn't have forgotten. He asked me questions he had the answers to. He made strange and questionable mistakes I truly don't understand how he could make. I have watched him as I helplessly realized age and mobility are catching up with him. A few weeks ago I tried contacting his son to express my concerns, only to find out he doesn't have the same cell number any more. Diamond Jim isn't the only person in my life in his situation. I see it more often than I want to admit. If nothing else, it makes me love and appreciate my older friends, so much more.

Today in his office, we discussed him "cutting back" which is a fancy, flowery way of saying "retiring." He tells me he doesn't know what to do if he cuts back. I tell him to travel to his kids' homes, visit the grandkids and great-grandkids. Take a month or two off and enjoy himself. Please. But first, finish my taxes.