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Monday, December 30, 2002

What can you do when you talk around in circles with someone for an hour (at seven cents a minute) and he comes to a decision you think is a mistake? Not morally wrong, just a course of action that won't bring the desired result. You can't argue with him because he's your boss (and also because you're not really sure of what you think you know).

The other problem is that he's not sure either, and there's only one day to make a decision. He doesn't know what he's doing any more than I do, and he's trying to do some tricky accounting that will put the company in the best possible position with the IRS (who will tax us if we make too much money) and the bonding company (who won't let us bid new work if we don't make enough money).

This is having your slice and eating it, too. We're pretty low on the food chain to be trying to keep up with the oil barons and their crooked accountants. There's nobody to take the fall for us if we don't follow the rules. Without access to the boys who write the book, we're pretty much stuck with going by it.

The Boss and I have this discussion at the end of every December. It's a big old mess, and my only choice is to do things his way. Even so, it'll be my fault if it all goes wrong once our accountant (who as far as we know isn't under indictment) gets his hands on the books. Is it any wonder I just want to pull the covers over my head?

Anyway, this is just one of the many petty details occupying my time as the year fades. It's always an adventure learning the new laws that make doing business a little more difficult, and figuring out how to fill out the newer, more complex forms.

There must be a point where all this becomes pointless, a critical mass that makes it more efficient to close up shop than to try to keep up with government regulations. Either that, or it gets to be worthwhile to go underground and sell your goods on street corners and in back alleys.

Sometimes I think you get punished more for making a mistake on a tax form than you would for flouting the law and refusing to file.

looking southeast

Clouds over the fields beyond my back yard.

The saving grace here is that tomorrow is the last day to make any decisions. Whatever we do, we do it now, and we live with it. Then it's 2003, and we can start making new mistakes, but at least we'll have 364 days to figure it out and get it right. Too bad we always wait until the last few ticks before midnight.

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Farewell, Aries Moon. We'll miss you, Lucy.

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.

One year ago: Untrimmed
"It sounded particularly good as a piano concerto, but horrible on the marimbas."

Two years ago: Never Gonna Keep Me Down
"Birds know what's good for them, right?"

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