Janzee

I met Janzee (the name she's given herself for this blog) when I first moved to New York 33 years ago. A friend of mine introduced us. We've gotten to know each other in that time, despite the fact that we've only seen each other, in person, exactly 33 times.

Janzee is my accountant;  the one who prepares my taxes. I trust her implicitly.  She knows the laws. She knows the changes in the laws. And she knows me.

I'll ask a question, and Janzee always has the answer. Sometimes she gives me more information than I need. When my eyes begin to glaze over, I stop her and say, "I don't really need an explanation, just tell me, can I do this or can't I?" 

And her estimates are always exactly right.

Today is my annual visit. Our meetings have gotten shorter over the years, as my income has declined. What used to be a somehwhat involved tax return, is now pretty straight-forward. 

I have to admit, as much as I like seeing Janzee, our visits together have become less fun. I used to leave her office happy about the big refund I'd be getting. Now I just hope that what I have to pay is not too bad: last year was (the cost of a low-end car); this year isn't (the cost of a Chanel wallet).