Its Saturday night and in my house that means that the only good time being had is by the dogs who are enjoying the thrill of realizing that when cats are chased, they become infinately more chaseable.
As for the humans, we have one out of town for the holiday (though that didn't keep her Squeeky voice from keeping me up last night, waking me this morning, and excusing away that she had to stomp around at 2pm to prove that she wasn't pissed that we decided to be in the kitchen to have lunch when she was trying to nap), another sleeping it off, and T deciding a shower might help her stay asleep since the ex b/f that she spent all week with and was here until 9:30am in her bed even with her at work at 6am keeps calling her to, um, be sure shes where he can get to her.
Then there's me.
Doing my taxes online.
Get the form. Fill it out. Email it somewhere. Get my check in a month because I'm a looooooo-zaheeerrrrrr and lost my W-2 behind my bed and it took a FULL DAY of spring cleaning my room before I could move the desk that is my headboard enough to see it sitting there where I crumpled it when I made my bed that time.
I am starting to realize why people start protests.
And sit ins.
Its so the Hill Dwellers might see there is a FUCKUP in the system.
The federal site gives you a list of sites to that will do your taxes for free but I started 3 before I realized they take my address and give me the basic deduction THAT IS PRINTED ON THE 1040 ALREADY and won't take my W-2 info until I cough some cash. I found one that is letting me input some stuff but when my aunt called for the third time to remind me that I'm in charge of the garlic bread to go with our lasagna and turkey for our "small Easter dinner" (I get to bring whatever I'm drinking too... I think the fresh bottle of Disaranno will be toast inside of 4 hrs), it timed out and is now locked up and the home page doesn't have a 'login' button so I get to start over.
I kinda get that they don't want a conflict of interest for having you use THEIR irs.gov site to file, but since I got the pdf of the form and downloaded it and filled it out from irs.gov, I'm not sure why that PO Box in that city that is only PO Boxes for IRS filings doesn't have an email address yet.
I'm just say'n. Is it THAT fucking hard to read off a screen instead of a piece of paper? Can't I 'sign' it on your site??? Don't tell me irs.gov is worried about hackers but TurboTax isn't. THAT would piss me off.
So I decide to take a mini break, pour a 12oz margarita (4 ice cubes, CaboWabo tequila to cover the cubes, then margarita mix 'with the tequila already in it!' even though the bottle says its 25 proof and every tequila I've seen is 80ish - even after I add the sour mix and Triple Sec my margaritas have GOT to be about 50 proof), and try my state taxes.
Again, easy form, one page, right off my W-2 (can I TELL you how glad I was that the handful of waded paper wasn't ALL the tag from my box spring!!??!?!).
Only this one won't let me save a copy.
Or save changes.
And I have to print a copy because it won't let me save one.
And I have to print it before I efile it.
And I don't have a printer and T is home and she is trying to pass out but she will be gone at 6am tomorrow because she got JACKED when the old chick healed her snowboarding accident and took all the good shifts back so I'll try to rouse myself at a reasonable hour and do my CA taxes in one helluva Good Easter Morning To Ya speed run.
Then go clean out the candy dish of all the M&Ms that T thinks are so cute (but not when they end up splitting her pants - true story) and has many many many bags of replacements that I can gorge on before the lasagna and turkey feast.
Oh, the death part is fun too.
I couldn't keep my room clean and even without doing laundry for three weeks I didn't have any room in my closet or drawers (yes, I have THAT many panty options on any given day but I was running out of gym clothes and places to stack the dirty laundry) so I took a look around and realized that I packed the really cute old school deep and kinda narrow desk drawers and never unpacked them... this meant if I could find a place for my kitchie knick knacks I could stash my camis and bras somewhere.
And I did it!!!
Helped create a hole in the mass of crap that hid my carpet so I could slide the furniture around and find the W-2s.
Making sense why it took all day???
Well, I'll admit I had to dust the spaces I was clearing for the new stuff and search every paper and card and postit for a clue as to where my Secret Safe W-2 place was... but mostly I got distracted by the contents of the drawers.
Some of it I hadn't touched since I moved from Northern California.
Two years in July.
[Somehow the taxes were easier to do from there, what is that about? ]
But seeing the 3x3 pics I filled the 12 frames with to adorn my first desk for my first post college job with... and realizing how many of the pictures were taken by people I will never see again... and to see people that I lost along the way... and seeing the pooch with an all black kisser instead of the powdered doughnut eater look she has now... and seeing times and places and events that were WAY before the loss and heartache and moves and jobs and roomies and remodels and drugs and deaths and bankruptcies and lonliness.
Hence the margarita when the taxes took more than an hour to EMAIL MY NUMBERS IN.
I mean Come.On.
I was thinking the the IRS server might crash or the inbox might be full or some crap, not that they don't want me to get my numbers in!!!
Add to that the newly full windowsill of memories staring me down in my frustration and you get 4 shots of tequila and tequila'd mixer to top it off.
Blockbuster and Vons are open on Easter; think the gym will let me in? I'll need a little something healthy to mix in this weekend of memories and mixers and frustration and family.
I DID get a gracious five finger discount at my sisters old place on a tiny TV with a DVD player in it so I could curl up in my room and watch movies - and it only took me 5 days to get it from my backseat to my bedroom- THAT was a helluva Friday night ya'll, lemme tell YOU! Thinkin of a repeat, but I'm thinkin taxes are more important than taking in a romantic comedy.
Making tonight that much more decadently devilish - with the contrast and all.
Off to try another round of "please, just tell me if I owe you or if I am still lame enough to have paid you too much and you get to give me some of MY MONEY BACK".
After I suck on this ice cube...