mnvnjnsn's Diary

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2003-04-17

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There's death, too!

I thought I was going to be so bad this year and not file my taxes. I had done them online ridiculously early—somewhere around February 1st—and discovered that I owed nearly $1000 to the Feds and $500 to the state of Oregon. And I thought, “Fuck that. This money isn’t going to go to anything useful, like feeding people and educating children and whatnot. They still haven’t gotten any of the money Enron (still #5 on the Fortune 500) never paid in taxes. If they come after me for a measly $1500, they’re crazy.”

Of course, they are crazy, but that’s another entry. As tax day got closer and closer, and all my friends started talking about it, I began to lose my nerve. Then I thought of a wonderful excuse. Estelle works for the IRS (no, she really does). I could just look as innocent as I could when the Feds came to my door and say “Well, my mother has a friend who works at the IRS, and she promised she’d take care of everything.”

Oh, wouldn’t that be a hoot?

But then NPR did a blurb on the Oregon schools, and how they’re cutting so many days off the school year, and I thought about all my friends who are teachers. I thought about my niece and nephew, and how I want them to grow up in a state with good schools and not the highest hunger rate in the country. And I thought about how we moved here from California and how I so wanted to not be that quintessential Californian asshole who takes advantage of this wonderful state of Oregon. And so I went online last week and hit “Submit.” For Oregon. If I could have gotten away with filing state and not Fed taxes, I totally would have done that.

For those of you who have never done your taxes online, your fill in all the blanks, it calculates what you owe, and then you print out a bunch of stuff to be mailed to the various state and federal locations. I dutifully printed the forms and wrote the checks, and then got to the part where I had to attach my W2 forms.

Where the hell did I put my W2s?

I’ve no fucking clue. The last thing I remember is them being in a pile in the game room before we had the new carpet put in. Of course, to put the carpet in, we had to move everything. So where’s that pile?

No idea. And now I’m late. And I can’t unfile. So now I’ll owe even more money. And once again I find myself wondering “What’s the point in being good, anyway?”

3:10 p.m. - 2003-04-17

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