Taxing

I finished my 2010 Federal Taxes this morning and now I'm having a panic attack. My business came out either $1300 or $3000 (I'm still confused) in the red according to standard deductions and accounting and all that and I'm freaking out, even though I know much of that has to do with car and house depreciation numbers and deducting $300 for an office supply that was a gift from my parents. Still, that's kind of the real cost of  my  business and I'm just sucking money from the universe and I had no W-2s all of 2010 so I feel like a giant suck on society and a useless human being. I'm still not over the can't-hold-a-real-job-with-headaches-but-need-one-to-feel-like-a-real-person thing. Like if I'm not leaving my house on a daily basis and doing something for seven hours a day, I'm wasting community air. Never mind how bad my head got in 2010. Never mind being hospitalized half-way through. That feels like an excuse when I'm having a day without a headache, with just a pathetic panic attack that makes me feel even less human and more..well, pathetic. What I'm doing seems so useless when you put a big number up like -$3000. Will it ever be profitable in a real sense? If not, what should and can I be doing instead? And why can't I just logic through this like a strong real grown-up instead of a sniveling useless panic-attacker?

I'm hard on myself. But shouldn't I be? How will I ever be a grown-up otherwise? Except right now being hard on myself is making my cry and panic like a fucking baby. I take photos of things. I sell those photos and/or those things. People buy them. It isn't enough. When will it be enough? What do I have to do to constitute "enough?"

Friends and Taxes

Very late. Very tired. I need to change the way I do my accounting so next year's taxes won't be Adventures in Approximationland. I could be deducting way more than I am, but if I don't find any 2009 repair reports on my car's mileage by the time I take my pills tomorrow, fuck it. Not sure if that's the socialist or the motherfuckinglazy in me, but either way.

___ and  I met up downtown at the Art Institute this afternoon. We're going  to try to make it a regular thing, since she lives in Berwyn and we never see eachother. We understand eachother's weird shit. We're made out of the same shit. The universe is an amazing place.

crunchy time

I am taking the Activia challenge, which sounds much more impressive and proactive than it is. All it means is that I'm eating an overpriced yogurt every day for two weeks and hoping it makes my digestive system less fucked up.

I need more hours in a day. I finished my taxes but I have to go mail them and I haven't gone to the Verison store to deal with my phone yet, and my class starts in two hours. Perhaps more would have been accomplished had I not fallen back asleep for three hours this afternoon, but I'm back on the caffeine and haven't had my fix today. And my dog is in uber-whiny mode, which is a shame because he's just so cute and we had several good walks yesterday.

My internet is back up in my apartment, but I'm afraid to say anything lest I jinx it.

Sunny sent me this. Now I have to get married like 7 times.