|
||||
Trying to do my taxes, realize I need two extra days just to sort out all the cost of goods vs. sales price stuff. This is not good. It also demonstrates to me how clearly I need to farm this stuff out to someone else to do, because I do not have the patience and feel extremely overwhelmed. Being my own business as an actor and landscape designer was much easier. It's amazing how much an inventory screws the whole thing up. :( Found some receipts for goods purchased in 2003. Already have to amend my 2003 return, so I guess it's a good thing I found them now. Again, I hate, hate, HATE doing my taxes. Every year it seems to grow more onerous. I am so not in a happy place, right now. I know moving back out on my own will be good for me, that the last few years here have been fairly awful much of the time. There's a lot going on with that, most of it having to do with excess baggage. I'm not angry, not bitter, not vindictive. I get angry and short with people who know both of us and suggest that somehow TXB is an asshole who doesn't deserve me, or whatever the phrase du jour is at that moment. It's not for them to judge. And yes, the boy is deeply messed up emotionally, and no, he doesn't appreciate me in the slightest. But he is a good person. I love him. I am still in love with him. He's just not so much in love with me, any longer. There's too much behind us and too much negative going on with both of us now, and neither of us is happy with the other, and being the guy he is, he'd rather throw in the towel and move on. That's just how it is. I'd rather not hate him, and I'm glad he doesn't want to hate me, either. I just want to find a decent job that will pay my bills - which will be very hard to do in this fucking expensive hell hole of an overpriced city - that I can go to every day for as long as it takes without wishing I could put a bullet into my brain. I'd like to find something that I don't hate so much that before I even get out of the building - or even all the way out of my chair - I am already mentally calculating the number of hours before I have to be there again and dreading that moment. I'd like to be able to pay my bills and buy gas and groceries - maybe even go to the movies or out to eat every once in a while - without freaking out every single time I pay a bill because I don't know how the hell I'm going to make my fucking measley paycheck stretch far enough that month (or week). And I'd like to go back to school and finish my degree (night classes, of course) and have enough energy left over after work to continue working on Dragonfly, making jewelry and increasing traffic so that people actually buy stuff. When I dream crazy big, I hope for medical insurance and to take a PMC class and some design and metalwork classes (also at night). I don't feel that's really so much to ask. Unfortunately, living in LA, it may as well be the fucking world. Bring me the head of John the Baptist, Herod, because I have a better chance of scoring a 2000-year-old skull than I do half the stuff in that paragraph. But I keep hoping. Peace out, copyright 2002
- 2005 Katie Doyle; all rights reserved
In which Katie shares sad news - Wednesday, Apr. 01, 2015
|
Katie's Pals
L'ours
Pete Other Stuff Katie Digs
|
|||
-
1
|