When Failure Is A Blessing

Today I was giddy when I looked at the calendar, for the first time in a long time. It hasn’t been that many years since this date filled me with dread.

In Canada, April 30th marks a stressful deadline for many people, but for accountants, tax day is like having the dentist, a colonoscopy, and a mammogram all scheduled for the same day. You’ve seen the commercials this year about ‘Tax Pain’ – for accountants, tax pain is real. It’s chronic migraines from lack of sleep and staring at thousands of receipts, a bloated belly from eating whatever cheap and greasy meal was ordered in at your desk for 60 days in a row, and if you’re super-lucky – tooth pain from the abscess that you’re not allowed time off to get looked at. By the 30th we are a beaten-down, exhausted – yet also wired – mess, vacillating between excitement at putting another tax season behind us, and panic that we won’t get all the returns in on time.

As a young accountant with no children I found my job to be all-consuming, like many professional occupations. I worked long hours, while also studying for a nightmare-inducing 4 day exam called the UFE. I remember feeling so judgmental of coworkers who had children and couldn’t stay when a deadline was approaching. Were they not dedicated? How much work could these kids really be? Why did I get stuck with all the work?

I was an asshole. Actually, I still am, but just about different things now.

Sure I would have rather been watching Survivor with my fiancé or hanging out in the Byward Market with our friends, but staying late at work didn’t have any real conflicts when I look back at it. Nerdguy was working long hours too, and so were our friends. I didn’t have children who were waiting patiently at daycare to be picked up. No one was going to fine me $10 for every minute after 6 o’clock I left the office. There were no lunches to prepare, homework to help with, or little people to snuggle. The world was not going to stop.

At the time I thought these people were just doing it wrong. My plan was to pass the UFE, have 3 or 4 kids that I spent plenty of quality time with, and be a brilliant career woman. Maybe a CEO even. How hard could it be?

And then I failed the UFE.

We moved.

I tried again.

I got pregnant within a week or two after, intentionally. I remember being so happy because I felt like all the pieces of my life were falling into place.

3 months later the results were released. I failed by 3 marks. Sometimes bad luck does come in 3s.

My husband took me out for lunch to cheer me up, and we were rear-ended. I started to miscarry later that week. We were devastated.

I appealed the exam results, hopeful. I was denied. My plan was unravelling.

We went on to have our oldest daughter the next year, and twin girls 22 months after that. I never worked in public accounting again, and have spent most of the past 12 years berating myself for failing the exam. For not trying hard enough, not sticking with it, and for letting everyone down.

But this year I am finally doing what I love. I am writing, and I’m home to spend time with the kids and my husband, and starting to make a little bit of money to help with the bills. And my ego. I now feel incredibly grateful that I have been steered down a different path. Tax returns are boring, and people hate auditors. And I would much rather eat with my family – even if I do have to cook the meal – than eat take-out every night at my desk. If I were a full-fledged public accountant I don’t think I ever would have gone down this path and I wouldn’t have the joy of discovering my creative side.

You know that expression – We Plan. God Laughs – well this time I am laughing right along with her.