Balancing somebody else's checkbook is a lot like coming in in the middle of a bad movie you don't even want to see. It has a confusing and inconsistent plot, is badly written, the characters are all obnoxious twits, and the general tone is one of hysteria, mingled with horror and sadism. My mom has gotten her accounts so fouled up that I can no longer puzzle them out. Attempting to track down the errors puts me in a very bad mood, and failing to find them aggravates me further. She's the Michael Bay of bookkeeping. Under her direction, all is mindless chaos.
It would be much easier if I simply did it all myself to begin with. It couldn't possibly take any longer to do it right than it takes to sift through the wreckage. For a while, I was doing much of it, but she's gone back to doing stuff on her own when I'm not available and she doesn't feel like waiting for me. I don't like doing bookkeeping even in the best circumstances, and these circumstances are not the best.
Anyway. Screw it. I'm going to sleep. Maybe the clouds will come back, drop a bunch of rain, and I'll be able to wake up in a better mood.