Friday, October 17, 2008


I started a new class tonight, and it's kicking my ass. This is the first time that I've been told that when I'm dealing with a return involving what I'm learning that it will automatically take at least 2 appointments. There is so much involved when doing a return with a foreclosure on it that there is no way to complete it accurately in a time span that it's reasonable to expect the client to sit there. With that much going on, that means there's a lot to learn.

I took this class because I'm expecting to see several people with foreclosures come into our office. The way that things have been going I think that it's a safe bet. I was talking to a preparer with 18 years of experience and this was a lot for her. When I told her that I'm headed in to my second tax season she said, "So this class is over your head, huh?" And that's about how I feel. And the fact that the instructor crammed 3 hours worth of material into 2 hours just made it worse.

To help me get through class my friend, Michelle, bought me a couple bottles of coke. The caffeine and the sugar seemed like a good idea at the time. Now it's 3:00 in the morning and I can't get to sleep. This wouldn't be such a problem, but I have class at 9:00, which means leaving at 8:00. So I need to get up in 4 hours, and I can't go to sleep. This is going to kill me.

Sunday, October 05, 2008


I just realized how long it's been since I've posted. It's amazing how during the day something will happen that I think would make an interesting post, but when I sit down at the computer I have no clue what it was.

The problem hasn't been not having anything to say, it's been not wanting to say it. I've been having an identity crisis and I haven't wanted to talk about it. Since this is the place where I promised myself that I would always be honest, I've avoided it like the plague.

I think that I've got a handle on the identity crisis now, but it's still not something that I want to put out there for anybody to read. I've had to be honest enough with myself to admit that there are some things that are too personal to put in writing. This is why I never kept a diary as a teenager. Because seiously, that would have been my sister's favorite book to read, no matter how well I thought I had it hidden.

The problem with having an identity crisis is that it'll throw the most level person into a depression. When you're already battling depression, it throws you into pits of despair. I know that I've talked before about the fact that I battle depression, but I often wonder if anybody who doesn't deal with clinical depression can really understand what it's like. The black cloud, the fog, the lack of any drive to do anything. The way that the simplest task seems overwhelming. And then there's the toll that it takes on your family. It's really more than I could ever hope to acurately describe.

The fact that I'm back gives me hope. I'm returning to the land of the living. Of course, I'm not cured, there'll always be that battle. But for the moment I appear to be winning. And for the moment, that's enough.