I've
been putting it off for months, but Saturday I knew that the clock was
ticking. If I was going to get the taxes done and submitted in time, I
needed to buckle down and get to work. After Timmy went to bed I
sequestered myself in the living room, poured a (obscenely large) glass
of wine and fired up my laptop. I fully anticipated a frustratingly long
evening, and I was not disappointed.
Little frustrates me more than dealing with numbers. I have not been gifted with a math talent, but thankfully in this computerized world, taxes require little more than answering some questions and plugging information into the forms when requested. Even though it wasn't particularly cerebrally challenging, I found the entire experience agonizingly frustrating.
It seemed that with each question I answered the ticker noting the amount we owed climbed. I was almost in tears after the first hour. Knowing that crying would do little to help with the situation, I poured myself another (large) glass of wine and tried to refocus.
By the time I was done with the income section of the website, my panic about the obscene tax bill morphed into resigned defeat. Instead of pouring myself another glass of wine I opted to just grab the entire bottle before moving onto entering the deductions. It turns out that we don't owe as much as I feared, which is definitely a good thing. Of course, I need to go over them at least one more time, without the wine. I discovered that trying to figure out your taxes while drunk may not be the best approach when you are striving for accuracy.
Little frustrates me more than dealing with numbers. I have not been gifted with a math talent, but thankfully in this computerized world, taxes require little more than answering some questions and plugging information into the forms when requested. Even though it wasn't particularly cerebrally challenging, I found the entire experience agonizingly frustrating.
It seemed that with each question I answered the ticker noting the amount we owed climbed. I was almost in tears after the first hour. Knowing that crying would do little to help with the situation, I poured myself another (large) glass of wine and tried to refocus.
By the time I was done with the income section of the website, my panic about the obscene tax bill morphed into resigned defeat. Instead of pouring myself another glass of wine I opted to just grab the entire bottle before moving onto entering the deductions. It turns out that we don't owe as much as I feared, which is definitely a good thing. Of course, I need to go over them at least one more time, without the wine. I discovered that trying to figure out your taxes while drunk may not be the best approach when you are striving for accuracy.
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