I have to say that opening this letter was a one of a kind feeling. Somewhere between getting kicked in the (proverbial) nuts, getting bitch-slapped and having your eyes gouged out by
hot iron pokers all at once. I am not recommending this ride to anyone. After the full bout of hysteria and hyperventilation, followed by the consumption of SEVERAL boxes of Ho-ho's and a few (OK, MANY) xanax, I proceeded to scour my house for money. I found $2 in my jeans pocket, $1.75 in change between the couch cushions and a few wayward raisins under the sofa. (Do raisins go bad??) Now, if I can just come up with the other $9,996.25 before April 15th, I should be good to go. Apparently if you are a fat-cat CEO who gets mega buck bonuses, Uncle Sam doesn't give a rat's ass about your tax return but if you are a dead broke first year teacher who is still trying how to make ends meet every month when she has more month than money...game on!!
On the bright side, the IRS is not auditing me. Which would probably amount to a bigger pocket-book bioposy than this one. So I should be thanking my lucky stars that it is just a minor piece of government endorsed extortion instead of a full blown body cavity search with a chain-saw. Although, it is just as pleasant feeling :-)
So here are Ms. Tastrohpie's little words of warning for all you tax-fun loving people this time of year. CHECK, DOUBLE CHECK and THEN GET SOMEONE ELSE TO CHECK before you file. (Karma can kick slap me all she wants and usually does; I just don't want her messing with anyone else.)
I'm off to go sell some plasma, a kidney and my (future) first born child. Hey Mister, can you spare a dime?
P.s. Turbo-Tax can SUCK IT!!!