One for you, 19 for me

Ah, tax day. This was an odd one, to be sure. We are still filing jointly for last year as the legal documents are still pending (yet another of my things on my long to-do list; I’m working on it). So today D and his Dad came over and I made everyone a big lunch. D’s Dad turns his nose up at anything that smacks of vegetarian or healthy, so he accepted but a teaspoon full of the lentil, rice and sausage stew I made yesterday for today’s lunch, which was very, very good, but he wouldn’t try it until he had filled up on everything else. And conceded it was good despite what he thought at first, and ate a bunch of it. I served lunch on the coffee table, sort of African-inspired, with us sitting on blankets on the floor. I needed the sunshine that was streaming in. And sitting at the cramped kitchen table with three of us is not fun, and places D in a mental state where we are all dining together again, and I don’t want to re-root those memories. So, an informal table meal, which I thought was lovely. D was too hyper (sick? a cold, again) to eat much, but he did pretty well. He didn’t even want the fruit salad I made so I think he is stuffy.

There’s perhaps nothing I hate more each year than doing the taxes. I screwed up my taxes so badly in my youth, back when I had 10-12 jobs a year and multiple W-2s and 1099-MISCs that I ended up owing an assload to the government, which I didn’t know for a couple of years until they figured it out, and then I had to pay them what I owed plus fines and shit. For a long time after that, I forked over the money to have H&R Block do it, but it just hasn’t been affordable for me for several years now so I’ve been doing it myself with Turbo Tax.

It took me a couple of hours to slog through the federal and state. He has always done the city form, because it makes me so irate trying to deal with what is a way, way too complex process for city tax that I feel like throwing myself down the back hill rather than deal with the city stuff, so he tried to dig in. Then we found that not only is my new job not taking tax out for city (half of last year), but somewhere, somehow, his job also quit taking out – they used to take out for both his work and home city, but last year they only took out for work. So, the meager federal refund we were going to get, which is already reduced by a small chunk by what we owe to the state, is now not only going to be completely null and void, we will owe on top of it. I would like to set the regional tax authority on fire with the sun. Just drop it right down on the whole fucking agency and obliterate it once and for all. It doesn’t matter what or why at this point, we just have to figure out how bad the damage is and pay the goddamned fucking piper. So this did not put me in a good humor.

But it was good to see my boy, who brought me an incredibly sweet Valentine’s Day card he made for me, which I will keep forever. His logic and reasoning and speech seem to have bounded ahead, he is a a real boy now, Pinocchio, and so clear about that, and insistent that we see it and deal with that fact. It’s a shift. It’s like someone took my sweet little boy away and replaced him with an older version when I wasn’t looking. I like this boy too, but I miss the old one, who was more tender and had a gentle side, which I can no longer find unless he gets injured or gets his feelings hurt. Then he lets me scoop him up and tend to his wound, emotional or physical, and be Mommy again just for a few minutes. Those times are getting rarer and rarer and each moment I have is like seeing another universe – just a glimpse for you, and then it’s gone again, maybe never to return. It’s a heartbreaking process.

As were the taxes, which did not get finished. I got the fed and state filed, but he has to call for help with the city, which we are hopelessly clueless about. I am trying to resolve right now to secure some form of additional income this calendar year so that I can pay someone ELSE to do this shit for me next year. I will squirrel money for that away somehow, even if I have to live off rice and lentils for an entire season, or work two jobs or whatever. And set aside money for city for 2015 as well, or figure out how to pay them quarterly or some shit so this doesn’t happen to me next year.

They then left, as D is off school tomorrow and his Dad is off as well, so I will pick him up tomorrow night. I set about my errands – grocery shopping and cooking so we’d both have food for the week, laundry, which I am back to hang-drying because it’s cheaper than paying to run the dryer, and I got a good, hard workout in.

This week I have to figure out the PTA dinners once and for all. Woke up at 5am stressing about that. And my car is way, way overdue for service, so I need to make an appointment for that, though it needs to be next week as I need my car to pick up D this week. And move the dentist appointment, and make an appointment to take my car in to get the paint fixed up where that guy hit me a few weeks ago. And yeah, the legal papers, I need to finish all the calculations and computations and try to get shit filed. It is nagging at me, like a sweater you didn’t realize you had to wear a liner underneath, and so it scratches you all day, making your skin a little red and making you generally crabby throughout the day, for reasons not visible or understandable to others who don’t know what’s going on.

Two more days on prednisone, which has fixed my lungs and may also be why I couldn’t sleep well last night and this morning. I was on this shit for years and it weakened my bones, and I worked really, really hard through dedicated strength training and a lot of calcium to get my bones just inside the normal range again on bone scans, which I still had just enough time to do as I was still in the bone-building years, albeit the tail end. Now that I’m middle aged, I don’t want to lose any of what I’ve worked hard to gain back, even a week’s worth of prednisone makes me edgy about it.

And I’m edgy enough these days. Where did I put that release valve? Have to dump that boiler or the whole hotel will explod.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s