Perhaps my disdain for my husband has subtly shown itself between the lines. Possibly I spend a lot of time overtly trashing him. I will bypass the Archie Bunker issue du jour (briefly) in order to recognize that I am not a total she-woman-man-hater. There are men that I like, first and foremost those to whom I am related. This, despite my brother telling me not to breathe the gas becuse it's poisonous at the dentist when I was 8 and having a tooth pulled.
Besides family there are the secret little infatuations I have here and there. SECRET.
However, the men in my every day life that REALLY MATTER,
1. My Accountant
2. My Biller
Having worthy individuals in these critical areas makes all else bearable. I mean it. Fuck spiritual harmony, finding someone that can maintain harmony with medicare and the IRS frees up my nights to obsess over so many other details, none quite as daunting though, as and audit from either of the above mentioned agencies.
My accountant is so talented that he can tell from the mere heft of an envelope whether or not I included all my shit for the month or maybe forgot to include a payroll. He can then sum up my month in 30 seconds, tell me I'm an idiot for the dead beat at home, then reassure me that I'm not headed for a cardboard box (this month anyway), then make me feel privileged and happy to write him a check, all while he maintains an average velocity of 120 mph. MY HERO. always.
Conversation with my biller while he painstaking and politely inquires if I have adequate documentation to support a -25 modifier makes my damaged eyes glaze over faster that a lecture on the life cycle of the whisk fern. But that's how I LIKE IT. If anyone has a balance greater than one dollar, he's going right after that dead beat, dammit.
So look at me now! so happy.
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