this is my damn office

Here’s a perfect example of my contradictory nature. (see previous post)

I say I like change, but when it’s time to file my taxes, I call the lady on Main St that’s been doing them for 3 years. No biggie, right? You don’t mess around when you have a good accountant.

So I stare at the tax junk on my desk for a month and finally make the appointment. Here’s the thing though: last year my accountant got somehow taken over or joined by another accountant and they made it into a new joint business. However, the sign on the window stayed the same. 

This year, I called who I thought was the right number, showed up at my old trusty office and was met by the nice chatty lady who was the original accountant.

Sure, stuff was rearranged in there again. But hey! Every year it’s been a bit different up in there, so I don’t question their decor choices. I’m there to give them the digits and hopefully get my money. About halfway through, I offhandedly asked what the name of her business was now. Where were the people from last year? Supposedly there was a conflict and a hint of bad blood. Sounded mafia to me, so I let it drop.

When we were almost done, my phone buzzed with a call I didn’t recognize. I’m really glad I didn’t answer it there.

We chatted about the Austrian and immigration and winter and left.

I checked my voice mail and it was Kim from other-fancy-name-accounting-firm wondering why I wasn’t there for my 1 o’clock.

what what?

The pieces fell into place. When I called to make my initial appointment, I did it with Kim from other-fancy-name-accounting-firm, thinking that they were all the same.

The next thought I had was that I was now the instigator of an accounting firm feud.

I felt horrible. I called both parties and apologized profusely for my mistake.

When I got off the phone, I told the Austrian, “You know, how dare they move and confuse me! I’ve been going there for 3 years and that is my damn office. Of course that’s where I’m going to go. If that means Henry Bob is sitting behind the desk, so be it. I don’t care.”

Let the accountants have their feud. As long as I get some coinage in my bank account, that’s all that matters to me.