Friday, March 28, 2025 - Day 227

Friday, March 28, 2025

Good morning to my friends, family, and others joining today.

More tax stories, boneheaded decisions (by me), and a couple of beers.

The long days of preparing taxes feel like a marathon. I must get up and down from my chair at least 20 times a day, whether to greet clients or (figuratively) run to the printer for tax documents. I’m sure the mental aspect of it contributes to the fatigue as well. Once we start at 8:30, there’s no break until we shut down at 4:00. No lunch break, either—it takes me nearly six hours to nibble on a donut before finally throwing half of it away. I try to avoid eating while talking… only bad things happen when I attempt that trick.

One of my clients yesterday was a Vietnam War veteran who has used our service before, though it was my first time meeting him. He filed as single, never mentioning marriage, divorce, or being a widow. I should have probed more, but I was following his prior return. We chatted about his taxes and his war experience, including his two brothers who were also infantry in Vietnam. I thanked him for his service.

He asked if I had served, and I explained that there was no war when I came of age, and the draft had been suspended in 1973. The stories and images from Vietnam had scared me away from military service, and I never looked back. Even so, I sometimes feel guilty about escaping it—but that’s just how things worked out based on my age.

As we talked, he mentioned his two daughters, whom he hasn’t spoken to in years because of political differences. He said it with a cold, stone face. I couldn’t help but wonder how sad it must be to be estranged from your children over ideology. I didn’t press him on how it happened. Instead, we focused on his taxes. He had a strong year in the stock market and expressed gratitude for his financial stability. However, he kept repeating that he doesn’t spend anywhere near what he earns. He lives a quiet life, mostly reading at home, so he doesn’t need much money.

Here’s a man with plenty of financial security, yet he’s missing out on his children’s lives and possibly even grandchildren—he didn’t know if he had any. Instead, he lives alone, seemingly doing very little. Maybe he’s content. It wasn’t my place to ask. But I had a hard time believing he was truly happy.

In the end, he owed nearly $10,000 to the IRS. He didn’t even flinch. We set up the payment, I thanked him for using our service, shook his hand, feeling strong firm grip, and said goodbye. I felt sad for him, but there was no time to dwell—I had another client waiting.

The next client was an older woman who struggled to get up from the chair in the waiting area. She had a walker and needed assistance. Her friend tried to help, but they needed another person. I stepped in. I know I’m not as steady as I used to be, but we got her to my table without issue.

Her friend also had an appointment, so she sat with another preparer on the other side of the room. It typically takes about an hour to complete a return. When I finished, I told her she could return to the waiting area, but she couldn’t get up. We were busy, so she needed to move—it’s all about keeping things flowing. I came around to assist her, and she struggled to her feet, gripping her walker. It wasn’t graceful, but she was up.

Then, suddenly, she fell backward. I tried to keep her up, but I have my own challenges stying upright—and suddenly, there were two of us falling. I was standing next to the table and crashed into it. Thankfully, the table held just enough to prevent us both from hitting the ground. She re-steadied herself with her walker, and I used the table to regain my balance. That was far too close to a serious fall for both of us. What was I thinking?!?!

I glanced around the room—everyone was focused on their work. No one had noticed. I think I could do a face plant and it would take until 4:00 for somebody to notice. We had narrowly avoided disaster, and I silently scolded myself. That was stupid. I’m not the same person I was even a year ago. It’s time to stop physically helping people—it’s not safe for them, and it’s certainly not safe for me. Lesson learned, I hope.

After a long day, I met Cindy, Mark, and Barb at Sew Hop’d brewery, just a mile down the road, for a couple of beers. It always feels good to sit and relax after an exhausting day. We stayed for two beers—it’s the imposed limit (by Cindy and Barb) because three is one too many. It’s a good rule, especially since these are 20 oz pours.

When I got up from my stool, I was unsteady, even with my cane. Cindy and Barb stayed close as we walked to the car. Mark drove since I had been dropped off at the brewery When we got home, Mark had to help me out of the back seat, and Cindy guided me into the house and onto the couch, where I plopped down once again. She reheated some leftovers, but by 7:30, we were already dozing off in front of the TV. By 7:45, we gave in and went to bed.

At least I’m getting good sleep lately—eight hours a night for the past week. Hopefully, I’m fully rested and ready for a good day. Wyatt and Nicole are in town for the weekend, and I’m really looking forward to spending time with them and making memories that will last a lifetime. Wyatt isn’t quite four yet, and I’m hopeful he’ll remember these times with me when he’s older. Time is precious…there may not be too many of these experiences going forward. So I’m going to keep doing what I can to make memories with the kids and grandkids.

Everybody, have a great Friday.

Love you guys! ❤️