Oh, don't bother.  I'm living in the hills and they have still found me.  It's true.  There is no escaping death and taxes.  No death today.  This is all about taxes.

My earliest memories of filling out tax forms were at my Mom's kitchen table as she tried to help me fill out the dreaded forms.  I remember complaining about the forms.  Their length.  Their language.  Why if the money was taken out of our paychecks did we have to relive the indignity by filling out these long forms?  Remember this was back in the late 70's before 1040 EZ.  Your choices back then were 1040 and 1040 A (Short form).

Along with the complaints and frustration, I remember lots of swearing (from me not Mom).  I also remember my Mom becoming frustrated with my reactions (swearing).  I remember at one point her yelling something like, "For crying out loud!  This isn't that hard.  Everyone has to do it.  Every year.  Get over it and get on with it."  Somehow I muddled through.

I muddled through for twelve years, through marriage, children, his jobs, my jobs.  The mere appearance of W-2's or tax forms in the mail was enough to start hands shaking and curse words flowing.  I think these episodes were the precursors of my full blown panic attacks at the age of 40.  Though the real panic attacks weren't tied to taxes.  Similar to people who suffer road rage, I guess you could call this tax rage.

I finally gave up yearly tax forms when we went into business for ourselves.  They became too complicated with all those schedules and my limited curse vocabulary.  Accountants were better equipped and educated for end of year tax forms and a couple hundred bucks was a small price to pay so I wouldn't have to deal with them.  Not that I got away easy.  There were still quarterly 940's to deal with, plus Workers Comp and Unemployment Insurance forms.

Last year was the last time I had to pay someone to file tax forms for me and my business.  The only reason was because the restaurant sale and liquor license transfer was finalized in 2005 even though it hadn't been open for business since 2004.

Honey almost had a heart attack at the $800.00 price tag for my taxes last year.  He's been filing his taxes on line with one of those tax programs you load on your computer.  He tells me it's easy.  He even says he likes doing it himself.   The program walks you through the process by asking you some questions and filling in some blanks.  He says it's sooo easy I could even do it myself, but he's offered to watch over my shoulder in case I run into problems.

I was actually feeling pretty good about the whole process until this morning when Honey decided to take the plunge.  He had a couple of problems loading the program, then a couple of problems changing the printer cartridge.  But what really got me nervous was when he came stomping downstairs yelling, "That F***ing government!  That F***ing Bush!  Something really needs done about him (notice the Pennsylvanian lack of the use "to be").  They changed the standard deduction by $800 bucks and you only get childcare credits if your child is under seventeen.  WTF!  I'm paying more and getting less back.  Muther F***ers!"  I think I got that pretty close.  There was more but do we really want to see more star and letter combinations?  I don't think so.

After a couple of hours, Honey was done.  He called me upstairs and said, "lets get some of your preliminary info out of the way until you get your W-2's."  First question:  What is your filing status?  Oh, crap.  My heart is pounding.  My hands are sweating.  I wonder how much money I have in my checking account?  F***ing taxes!!!  G$# D*%~ government!  Sh^#!

tags: taxes  frustration  anger  

links: digg this    del.icio.us    technorati    reddit