NOLA Notes

Well, Monday night was our first 3-hour Lamaze class. The long and the short of it is that it was BORING. My bum hurt after all that sitting and the videos weren’t scary at all. I am holding out hope that in the following weeks we will cover some topics over which I have anxiety and that the classes will give my coping mechanisms for those issues that may present themselves in Sun’s delivery.

After having my mind-numbed Monday night with the Lamaze classes, I then turned my attention Tuesday to our mind-numbing taxes. Good thing my office had no alcohol in it–by around 3pm, I’d have been doing shots. I had to finish one corporate federal return, one corporate state return, one individual federal return, one individual state return, review and file one state and one federal partnership return, and completed countless quarterly filings for two separate businesses. I lost count at, like, 14 separate filings.

I am not complaining about paying taxes. I like roads and hospitals and other such things. But surely there is an easier way for citizens to pony up their fair share. Income taxes, employment taxes, property taxes, excise taxes, sales and use taxes, franchise taxes. I mean, damn. And if you just took a little card out and slid it through some “tax machine” to determine what we each owed, I wouldn’t mind one bit. But the paperwork! Good God. I used to hate what is known as “tax season”–being that time culminating with April 15th. But with owning a small business, we are filing some type of tax return every month. Yes, April is still the mack-daddy of months. BUT IT NEVER ENDS. In less than 30 days, I’ll be doing another damn return of some type. And within these next 30 days, we have those three remaining Lamaze classes to attend.

We could just hire someone to help with all these filings. I mean, just because I CAN do it doesn’t mean I necessarily SHOULD, right? We do get help with the small business (big shoutout of thanks to Mitzi), but I know I’d be as involved in the other stuff if I did farm it out. It’s my sick nature. In fact, at one time, I did farm it out. And it got all screwed up. Well, hell, I can screw it up on my own for FREE and it’ll take about as much of my time. So I pulled it back in some years ago and now just suck it up and DEAL. But I am the first to admit that this is one day in the year you do not want to be around me. I literally stopped people from talking to me. I didn’t answer one single phone call or in any other way communicate with the world. And the world should thank me–’cause you’d be blogging about what a bitch I was if you would have talked to me. Ugh.