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plumtreeblossomWhen you have a blog or a public journal, as I do, there are many moments in each day when you spontaneously start composing a post in your head while going about life's very mundane business, only to remember (if you're grounded in any sort of reality) that nobody would or should give a good goddamn about what it is you have to share. I'm not talking about sudden deep insights while doing the laundry; I'm talking about posts about the laundry itself.
As a sometimes-fiction-writer, I can put a spin on quasi-retarded topics and make them readable. Case in point: my post just prior to this about liking all my food on one plate. Only a navel gazer would write about that, but a well-mannered navel gazer can, and does, find wording that neither beseeches affirmation nor bores with excessive detail.
That said, I did my taxes today. That's not something you should care about, nor something I should crow about. Getting things done that we're supposed to do, like changing our underwear or doing our taxes, is not an "accomplishment." Yet when you're doing it, and when you get to that candy-like "All done!" moment, the first thing you (and by "you" I mean "I") want to do is tell someone about it.
This would be a non-item if I'd ever in my life done my taxes before April 14th in any given year prior this, ever. But here we are, in a spring-like February as I sorted through the communal 3-household mail basket and found my W2, that I actually skipped an anti-Superbowl board-game party and chose to geek on my taxes instead.
For the first time in 12 years, I'm getting a re-fucking-fund.
Et vous?
As a sometimes-fiction-writer, I can put a spin on quasi-retarded topics and make them readable. Case in point: my post just prior to this about liking all my food on one plate. Only a navel gazer would write about that, but a well-mannered navel gazer can, and does, find wording that neither beseeches affirmation nor bores with excessive detail.
That said, I did my taxes today. That's not something you should care about, nor something I should crow about. Getting things done that we're supposed to do, like changing our underwear or doing our taxes, is not an "accomplishment." Yet when you're doing it, and when you get to that candy-like "All done!" moment, the first thing you (and by "you" I mean "I") want to do is tell someone about it.
This would be a non-item if I'd ever in my life done my taxes before April 14th in any given year prior this, ever. But here we are, in a spring-like February as I sorted through the communal 3-household mail basket and found my W2, that I actually skipped an anti-Superbowl board-game party and chose to geek on my taxes instead.
For the first time in 12 years, I'm getting a re-fucking-fund.
Et vous?
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 04:31 pm (UTC)Dunno about the refund, though. I've yet to declare about the poverty line since I started filing, 'cause I've yet to hold down a job for a full calendar year. Last year I got twice as much back as I paid to the Fed; but then last year I think I officially made $6k. So we'll see.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 05:21 pm (UTC)I got the W2 this weekend, and I have no idea why I was suddenly johnny-on-the-spot doing them. When I found out I was getting like $500 back, I w00ted for a while and then decided, like a grownup, that it was going to bills.