Thursday, January 6, 2011

Day 4

Day 4
Originally uploaded by TenCoffeeDay
Today was The Girl's first day back to preschool after Christmas break. On the way there it started to snow. By the time I dropped her off the snow had begun to affect the way people were driving. Why is it that some people see snow and start going so slowly they will never get where they're going while others either do nothing or continue to drive like maniacs?

Anyway, almost as soon as I turned out of the school I came behind a vehicle bearing the license plate TAXES 4.  I was forced into thinking about taxes for nearly fifteen minutes straight.  Boy would I ever like those fifteen minutes back.  I wonder if the driver realized that she was forcing the people behind her to think about their taxes every time she backed out of her driveway and onto the road.  I bet not. 

See, back before The Boy and The Girl I worked for an accountant.  Every tax season the office would be filled with people hoping against hope that this year would be the year their tax return dreams came true.  I came to realize that many people are unaware of a simple fact about taxes.  Most of us are only getting our own money back.  We're not getting an annual gift from the IRS.   This is not some cosmic financial windfall meant to brighten an otherwise bleak winter.  We're just getting back the money we loaned them for free during the year.  This is not necessarily a bad thing.  Some of us are not particularly skilled at saving money or we prefer not to go through the painful experience of writing a check to the IRS. 

So folks, consider this a public service message from your heavily caffeinated friend - Get your deductions in order, gather the appropriate paperwork and last year's return. Call your accountant and get that appointment scheduled before all the good slots are gone.  Don't be one of the millions of people who will be sitting in line at the Post Office on April 15th waiting for their turn to drop an envelope in the blue box.  Let this year be the year you chuckle knowingly at the poor saps stuck in that Post Office line. 

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