sunset

That time of year. Closing. Gearing up...as everything and everyone else gears down. New software. New files. New clients. New papercuts. Long days. Followed by long weekends. Three and a half months of hell. Little time for family. Little time for friends. Very little time for surf. Perhaps it's a blessing that tax season coincides with the shittiest season of surf. At least.....that's what I tell myself.

Self-deluding......is a gift.

Time to take stock. This will be the last season. Fourteen. .....or is it fifteen? I've lost interest. I no longer enjoy the game. I know every client by voice. (Even if I don't recognize their face.) I can find a file with my eyes closed. Even scarier.....I know the numbers on every clients' return. Yep....all 150+ of them. Really....it's no surprise. I handle them all.

At least.....I used to.

The numbers no longer thrill me. Long gone are the days of being awed by millions....on a W-2. No longer excited by ...working the line. ...adjusting. ....finessing. ...creative accounting.

The last season of bitchy clients. The last season of dealing with the IRS and ODR. The last season of working my 10-key and computer keyboard simultaneously. Right hand. Left hand. Working in unison. The last season of making coffee. Starbucks....Sumatra. The last season of watching people's eyes glaze over, as I explain what it is I do.

What will I do? Anything. Except write the next great modern american novel. A given. Hopefully.....find more time for surf. Find more time for my son. Find more time for.....whatever the tide brings.

I'm sure there'll be plenty of staring in the mirror. Oh...the horror.

Ample time to figure it out.

Three and a half months....to be exact.

I welcome the challenge.

photo courtesy of Gaz