Tax Time !

April 15 is around the corner and I've once again managed to squeeze in a year's worth of accounting into a couple of weeks so I can rush the information off to my magical tax attorney and have him figure out what the government gets to steal from me what I owe this year. Every year after I do this I swear I'll be better next year. I will do it differently and be so much more prepared! I'll keep records and be up to date throughout the year!  So far, nothing has changed. However, this year, I did discover a great resource: The SF Small Business Development Center offers tons of classes for very cheap, one of them being a Basic Bookkeeping class for $25, which, after you attend, qualifies you for 4 free hours of one-on-one counseling with an accountant. So, back in February, I begrudgingly took myself over there, did the boring class, and got my 4 hours. I got all set up on the Quickbooks, and have a system I can now use throughout the year.  Wish I did this 3 years ago. Word to the wise: Find a way to get your books set up correctly before you even begin. It makes things a whole lot easier. Tax time will never benefit the small business owner--unlike the days of being an employee when earning very little meant owing very little, owning your own business requires you to pay taxes out of the ass, even if you've barely been able to pay your rent all year--but at least the rest of it doesn't have to be a nightmare.
See SF SBDC's list of classes and events here.

The Art of Saying No

Saying no is an art form. I'm a complete amateur when it comes to utilizing it. I avoid it whenever possible, and if I do happen to say it, I feel guilty afterward.  I go to war with myself when I know I want to say it, but can't for fear of shirking my "obligations."  I don't want people to not like me or my business. So I say yes and then proceed to be miserable and pissed off because I have, once again overextended myself and put my health and my needs second. And of course then I hate myself for putting myself in that preventable situation in the first place. Yesterday I got a request from a new client which I did not want to fulfill, since I was already feeling overwhelmed from the month's schedule. It took me 5 hours and a discussion with my therapist to finally respond with this email:

Dear xxxxxx,

Thank you for emailing me. I've gone over my calendar and realized that I regretfully
will not be able to take this on at this time.  I am currently working on expanding my company to include some staff (hopefully within the next month or two), so if you are ever interested in my services in the future, please call again as I would be delighted to help you.
I do have the name of another person who does some part-time cat sitting and might be available- his name is *****, and you can reach him at *******@yahoo.com.
I am sorry I couldn't help you this time --please do check back in the future if  you find yourself in need of some cat care again!

Best,
Jille

I almost did not send this. I almost, instead, agreed to meet this new client, and take on the extra bookings that it required even as my stomach churned, telling me it knew full well that this decision would only add to the stress and self-loathing that comes from going against what I know is right for me.  I was very close. But instead I chose to send this email (yay me!). I haven't checked my email yet since then. I do have a fear that I will have received some response--upset with me., berating me, pleading with me--something that punishes me for saying no. But I suppose that is part of the art form--being ok with saying no is just as important as saying it.  And--you know, much better than killing myself.

I've found some good resources on learning this valuable skill. Check 'em out.
http://zenhabits.net/say-no/
http://personalexcellence.co/blog/how-to-say-no/
Here's a handy, easy to refer to manifesto  from http://personalexcellence.co/blog/:

Do Something for Yourself at The Start of Every Day

You've heard it before. Taking time out for yourself is a necessary component to cope with life's everyday hurdles thrown in your path. Plenty of self-help books and gurus will tell you it's important to begin your day with some of that time. Meditate for 5 minutes every morning; write in a gratitude journal; wake up 1/2 an hour earlier to sit and enjoy the sunrise with a cup of coffee; whatever. Those things are brilliant and they actually really do work--but they're f***ing hard habits to start when you're writhing in the depths of despair and can barely get out of bed to check your email (a note on checking your email: NOT a good way to begin your day. Whether it's professional or personal, being bombarded by other people's requests and chatter does not start one's day off on the right foot. Pretty much never. Don't do it. Resist the iPhone.), let alone get out paper and pen and start writing about all the things for which you're thankful.

For me it began by taking a shower.  My never-ending work week, with multiple requests to have me there at a client's home in the morning had gotten me in such a habit of getting straight out of bed-- sometimes still in my pajamas (only when I'd be driving, of course)-- hair unwashed, sleep in my eyes, no makeup and out the door to start knocking the appointments out so I could be done with it and it would be over. But it is never over. Every day, it's the same thing. Getting up without getting ready to get the work over with apparently doesn't make it go away. It comes back every day. All it accomplishes is making me feel like poo.  

And then, it dawned on me. If my job has gotten so crazy and demanding that I don't even feel I have the time--but more importantly-- the reason to TAKE A SHOWER IN THE MORNING, something is terribly wrong. 

So my small way to make sure my day sucks a little bit less is to make sure I do that. I also know I feel great when I exercise in the morning, or do yoga, make a nice breakfast, or even write (it was in fact a huge motivator for starting this blog), but if I can stick with at least getting myself in that shower every day, it's one more simple step away from killing myself.