Fridays aren't for working

I know that I am not going to get a lot of sympathy on this one, but:

This is the first Friday I've worked in several months. I mean, work at my job, not at home or at St. Michael's or as a volunteer at the school. In my office in the country. You know what this means. It means that it is TAX SEASON.

From January through April I work five and a half days a week. May through December, not so much. In fact, 30 hours a week is really only a theory. That's not great since I get paid by the hour, but it's hard to argue with flexibility.

It takes awhile to get back into TAX SEASON shape.

It means that I wear real clothes and shoes every day. And make-up. No more wearing my Snuggie all day. No more fuzzy socks from morning to night and beyond. I'm talking hard-soled shoes. A bra. Jewelry if I can find it.

It means that I work nine hours straight most days. No more naps on Friday afternoon. No more Friday night "happy hours" that run into Saturday. The happy hour is going to have to be closer to an hour (or three, but who's counting?)

It means that I have something to do at work pretty much all the time. And that much of the time I have three or four things to do. And I have to figure out what's important and how to do everything.

It means that I will see actual human beings every single day. Several times a day. And some of them will yell at me because they have to pay taxes even though they were unemployed most of the year. And some will cry on my shoulder because their stinking soon to be ex-husband/wife is doing terrible things to their credit rating and alienating their children. And some will try to kiss me when they get a big refund even when I tell them that was their money anyway and the government has been holding it interest free. When it's not tax season I can go three weeks without a visitor. And, as an accountant, I LIKE that.

This stuff takes getting used to. I try to take it slow, working until five a couple of days a week to build up to the six o'clock closing time next week. Walking around the yard when I start to feel really tired or overwhelmed. Telling accounting jokes with my co-workers (why did the accountant cross the road? Because that's what last year's accountant did.) Little things that keep me going.

So now, Fridays are for work, like normal people. And Saturday mornings are for work, like a lot of other people, too. And my sudden urge to crochet may be pushed aside by my increased desire to sleep as soon as I get home.

But at least I'll be making some money, and as an accountant, I LIKE that, too.