This week shapes up as being one of the most crucial in the tumultuous life of H. I’ve not made much reference to it before now. Like I say, there’s a lot that happens that doesn’t reach this place, and I prefer to avoid the melodramatic. That’s what this week will be though, melodramatic.
That’s melodramatic in the not so good way, or so it seems likely. I have a couple of huge challenges to get over this week, and practically speaking the odds are stacked against me.
The first challenge is regarding this shop. I face foreclosure. It’s no great surprise, but it still feels shocking.
I’ve been in the negotiations the last couple of weeks. I’ve played the angles available to me, and played them well I think. I’ve sent carefully worded emails and had conversations with the agent representing the landlord. I’ve been reasonable and honest and strived to co-operate, and she has been sympathetic.
The problem is that the landlord is irrational, intractable, and vindictive. He doesn’t care about any of that. If he closes on me he loses too, which is what I’ve pointed out very clearly. Publicly at least he doesn’t give a shit.
I’m hoping that common sense will prevail, and have to continue to play my hand skillfully. If I give them something will they let me continue long enough to sell? How much is something? If they are intent on this course then there is no point me giving them anything. That’s the balancing act, and perhaps the bargaining chip, small as it is.
There are high stakes involved. I have an attachment to the shop that comes second to ensuring the staff here have a place to work. If they close the doors my staff are unemployed. From a financial angle it’s a big deal too. If they close on me I lose my investment, am lumbered with another decent sized debt, and am threatened with being sued.
I have one potential buyer, and potentially a second. If I’m allowed to sell the shop goes on and I walk out with some dignity, not to mention some cash in my pocket.
I’ll probably speak to the agent tomorrow. See if I can wangle a deal – the deadline is this Friday. If he closes on me despite all of this I’ll be going after the landlord. I won’t forget.
The second momentous event is my protracted wrangle with the Australian Tax Office comes to a head this Thursday morning. After nearly 2 years of dispute we appear before the Administrative Appeals Tribunal to seek resolution. My best hope is to make an appeal to mercy, and logic. The ATO couldn’t give a fuck, but I’m hoping an independent tribunal might be more reasonable.
In all probability the best I can likely hope for is an arrangement, maybe 60c in the dollar, deferred for 2 years or something.
The odds are stacked against me. I appear unrepresented against the might of the ATO. It seems unfair, but I’ve fought this long and this hard that I’m not about to give in now. I have to be smart and resolute. I can’t be cocky or hostile. Humility will serve me well, but so too will a focus on the key points.
Normally you’d put your best suit on going to court. I’ve got some good suits and nice ties, but reckon it’s to my advantage to dress down, sad but true. I’m in a desperate plight and a thousand dollar suit will harm more than help – and so I’ll be appearing n my shabbiest suit, minus the tie.
It’s full on this week. Literally my fate is being decided. But you know, the contest invigorates me. I always feel the most alive when I’m up against it. I feel good. Might feel not so good later in the week, but here’s hoping.