The High Speed Wobbles.

Anybody who suffers from an “anxiety disorder” will know the wobbles well, most likely.

It happens to the very best of the best of us; no matter how far into ‘recovery’ and/or treatment we may be – it never completely leaves us for good, it always returns to remind us again…we have no control. It happens on a good day, a bad day, a day you never even make it out of bed at all.

For me, the wobbles tend to come out of nowhere, typically blindsiding me into submission to an emotional tsunami of anxiety, malcontent and paranoid fear. This seems to truly wash over everything – the thoughts in my head and heart, the feelings I harbor in general, my level of energy, my attention span, any motivational element in my life at a given time; I become consumed very quickly and completely by the anxiousness when this occurs. I become paranoid of my surroundings and the people in them; I lose any sense of reason. In turn, what usually happens, is that I trigger my own reflexive fight or flight response through the sudden increase of adrenaline and serotonin coursing through my body – and I react as if I were being attacked in a corner.

I know, it’s fucking disturbing…but true.

I have a roommate, I’ve written about him and his lack of understanding surrounding the details of the things that I struggle with from day to day, in regard to constant fear and perpetual edginess; he likes to scare me. He finds it amusing, which in all honesty, makes him NO DIFFERENT from 9 out 10 dudes that I know, unfortunately.He likes to hide in the shrub near the front door and wait for me to walk passed in the dark after work…he likes to pop out of random closets and spaces that I’d never be expecting him to pop out of. It’s unfortunate.

AS, IT’S DOES NOT AMUSE ME.

When I am startled by someone, in the moment, I do not see. I do not recognize you in the slightest, in spite of being only inches from your face and looking dead at you, I do not see you. I am not there. Somebody else must be; because it is during this slice of time after being startled by someone that my subconscious should recognize but doesn’t communicate such to my conscious mind, that my body honestly seems to just take over and do what it thinks I need to be doing in the moment that I get startled. As my roommate is learning  slowly, but ever-more surely – my typical reaction to being startled isn’t to run, after all…shocker! I’m a fighter! And apparently, I go for the eyeballs and face…we are mapping a pattern.

He doesn’t (and by all rights really couldn’t, anyway) get angry with me for physically assaulting him when this happens, he didn’t even hold a grudge four times back – when I pepper sprayed him, reflexively…

He cannot say that I haven’t warned him, and he cannot say that at this stage of things either – that he doesn’t have a good idea of what he’s looking to get into every time he shimmies himself between the shrub and the drainpipe when he hears my car alarm beep beep…so, I no longer feel in the least bad when I have to eat across the table from him when he bears a smeared nose or scratch marks into the corners of either eye. He asked for it.

One Last Tax Season.

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It is officially “Tax Season” in the US – my “busy season”; yes, it’s that time of year when I am deprived of my already minimal patience with my fellow species, altogether. During past tax seasons, I have unfailingly learned major life lessons between the lines of the mundane data entry.

During the off-season, my firm specializes in audit reconciliations, global funds tracking, forensic accounting, and representation of our clientele before the Internal Revenue Service in defiance of its claim to their’ assets. This is what we love to do, and this is what defines a difference between Enrolled Agents and other professionals in the Tax/Banking industries. The Enrolled Agent, as I have talked about in the past on my blog, is a separate kind of legacy from other public accountants of any type – our tiny little collective are the only US Tax Preparers enrolled with the Federal IRS and Franchised Tax Boards in each state, and that can personally stand before these entities in representation of a client. CPA’s, MBA’s, or every other type of professional Tax Preparers/Financial Planners does not have this legal right or ability in any context. What this means is: anytime that ANY of those other types of professionals have a significant issue between a client and the IRS and/or any of the fifty State Tax Collection Agencies, they have to come to an EA in order to deal with it legally and soundly.

In the off-season (which is really our favorite time of year, as we can focus on forensic accounting), my firm is typically still in consistent demand by these various professionals for such issues, as we have never taken such requests during tax season for obvious reasons – – – we are too fucking busy cranking out tax returns day and night for our truckloads of highly successful and thus – highly high maintenance – regular and long-term clients.

SIDE NOTE my beloved boss is getting old and refuses to fully retire like he should have done years ago (another common characteristic among EA’s), and has become rather senile over this past year or so.

When he made the announcement at Christmastime that he was going to keep the doors open for forensics throughout the upcoming tax season, all of us just kinda laughed it off as something SO VERY OBSURD and IMPOSSIBLE, he must be joking – despite his total lack of any sense of humor. We were dead ass wrong. This season, he has chosen to allow a gods damned three ring circus parade to permanently take up residence in the drawer of my desk, and those of my co-workers. We are each hard-working people who bring our own unique piece of FUCK YOU to the tax table; we are each tried and true capable of making IRS field auditors shrink away through our hard work and dedication to the foundation of our profession – DISALLOWING THE MAN TO STEAL PEOPLE’S ASSETS.

target3I work in very well-respected and pedestalled place, professionally. My boss’ private firm is chock full of the best of the best, no joke – we are a shining example in our industrial realm. But, here lies the growing issue now: we have been taught be the best – my boss, who is degenerating with age and confusion. The past few seasons have undoubtedly been held up by his staff, alone – – – as we have been forced to begin to check his work for a change due to various serious errors he’s made. (A FIRST)

Anyway, we are all already at the end of the collective rope when it comes to his decision to allow the other finance professionals to continue to bring their’ work here to us during tax season, plus having to check his work in secret when he isn’t looking, which feels wrong as Hell. But it is with the best of intentions, on all of our parts. This tax season is already grueling, and it’s barely just begun. I am reminding myself constantly however, despite the chaos that my boss has brought upon his crew, that it might be out last season together this way – and so I’m enjoying as much of it as I can…but damn it’s CRAZY here now!!!

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