Tomorrow is that dreaded April 15th; the day that once ushered in visions of flowers blooming and birds singing to celebrate Spring. Now this blighted day brings nightmares of people dressed in black with hands outstreached screaming “Pay me!”
For many, April 15th is a day of dread, and I was worried that I would be one of those people. I haven’t slept in my bed for almost 2 months because it’s been piled up with envelopes containing last year’s receipts.
I had procrastinated (as usual) because I didn’t want to face the daunting task of figuring my taxes; so when I finally did go to the library to pick up the forms, imagine my shock to discover there were no forms available! So, once again I ignored the gut churning feeling that I really should do something about my taxes.
I was so good at ignoring my common sense that I almost missed the filing deadline. Now I could rationalize my excuses, but what’s the point. I just didn’t want to do it because it makes my eyes burn and I wind up seeing through a fog (if I’m lucky). If my luck decides to desert me, I’m left with wavy lines flowing like little streams before my face (which might not be too bad, except it disrupts my equilibrium).
Just about the time I was remotivated to work on compiling receipts my printer died, and that distressed me because I’m not a flexible person. (I’ve been trying for years to overcome this, and I think I’ve improved… Honest!)
Every time I’d enter my bedroom, I’d glance at the envelopes, and sometimes I’d even move them around to make room for me to sit, but I just couldn’t get motivated to tally anything up. (I mean my eyes would ache just thinking about it).
Sis kept telling me to file an extension so I could stop obsessing about those little envelopes; so I finally decided to research what I needed to do. Surprise, by the time I’d finish figuring out what my tax liability would be, I could have the 1040 filled out ready for mailing. It’s been a long day and I even power napped on the couch for 4 hours (when I could no longer tolerate the burning eyes and wavy lines haunting me), but I’m Done ’til next year. Take that Tax Man!