No dependents, no clue
Monday, February 18, 2008, 7:59 PM
This is me.
So I just finished doing my taxes to the The Matrix soundtracks (I have all three). I also have all three movies. I love Neo. I adore Keanu Reeves, too, even if he does smoke. Everyone's allowed at least one vice, right? Anyway, I use Turbo Tax--I have for three years now--and it's easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. Especially when you're doing it to kick-butt music. No, I have no dependents. Yes, I'm still single. Yes, I still work for the same company. No, I don't want to give any money to the presidential campaign.
Yeah, I know I said I was going to do my taxes yesterday, but really all I did was eyeball the red, white and blue Turbo Tax top hat on my desktop and think, Hmmm, maybe after this round of free rice. I gave over 1200 grains of rice to the hungry. I filled so many argen-fargen bowls that the pile of rice became a hill, and then I started over in bowls again. I'm proud of myself, too. I know more words than I thought. Even those I didn't, I guessed correctly 90% of the time. Hey, nobody's going hungry on my watch.
I woke this morning to a rumbling sound coming from the apartment above me. It sounded like the maintenance men were dismantling the kitchen sink and the bathroom toilet. Of all the geezely, I thought. It's President's Day. What the frell are you doing up there? Nevermind that if someone at work last Thursday hadn't told me Monday was a holiday, I would have shown up for bidnez as usual today.
Which reminds me about the time I didn't show up for work on a Tuesday because I thought it was still Monday. It must've been Labor Day or Memorial Day, who knows. All I know is I was taking a leisurely stroll through the 'hood and thinking, My, my, where is everybody? Oh, this is nice not having to dodge lawn mowers, water hoses or kids on roller blades.
I remember calling my ex to see when he'd be coming back home (he was a plant manager and basically worked 24/7), and I was surprised to hear the company's receptionist answer the phone. What a friggen maniac, I thought of him, making those people work on a holiday.
When he got on the phone, I demanded to know why the receptionist was there.
He laughed. "It's Tuesday. Where are you? You better be calling from work."
I didn't believe him. This was just the kind of joke he'd try to pull on me, too.
"It's not Tuesday," I told him. "Stop trying to freak me out." Besides, if it really was Tuesday, I was in hot shit.
Finally, he had a co-worker come to the phone to assure me it was Tuesday--some shy, nerdy guy who wasn't sure why his boss wanted him to tell the person on the phone what was patently obvious to the sane. His voice was hesitant and wooden. "Um, it's Tuesday. Yeah, deh-definitely Tuesday."
Every hair on my body stood up and my ears got hot. Damn. It WAS Tuesday. And my ex wasn't the only one who was thinking I'd lost my mind.
"I'll call you back," I snapped at my ex and hung up on him while he was still laughing.
My boss was cool about it. "I wondered where the hell you were," he said in between laughing.
Yeah. On Mother Earth, with my head in the clouds.
But I still file my own taxes. God help me. Amen.