Last night I watched Russia's Toughest Prisons on Netflix to feel better about my predicament. It didn't help.
It's not like this tax season is particularly more difficult than any other. Last year I was working 60+ hours regularly, the year before it was 65+. This year is a merely 55+, absolute cake!
It is probably the lack of sunlight that's doing me in right now. I was meant to be in natural sunlight all the time. The sallow hue my skin has taken on is repulsive. Jergen's tanning lotion is flaking off me in protest. I feel ugly in these office lights, they highlight the circles under my eyes and the glaring whiteness of my skin. Really whose idea was it that a professional environment had to be colored in beige and gray? Oh, and don't forget the blue that is more gray than a primary color. My last office had burnt orange cubicles spread throughout the building. I miss that burnt orange.
I try not to strain my eyes too hard to distinguish between the computer monitor and the gray surrounding me because my firm doesn't offer eye insurance. But..... if I go blind, I won't have to do taxes anymore. Time to start straining more!
Anyways back to Russian prisons. Very very relatable. Gray prison cells (cubicles), three meals a day (a barely edible catered dinner), ferocious dogs (aww puppies! I wish), survelliance at all times (ditto sans cameras), yardtime (NOPE!), frequent beatings by other prisoners (we have emotional beatings when we screw up tax returns).
Basically, I think I should get a tattoo similar to Russian inmates that represents each year I've gone through a tax season. I'll have it be my increasing contact prescription for each one I've survived. Obviously in a body location that no one else can see whilst in my work attire. Maybe my ass, because taxes can kiss it right now.