Thursday, March 4, 2004

Tax Day is rounding the corner, gentle reader, and I’m looking for tips on how to fill out my form correctly. When I tried passing this headache on to my Accounting Department, the stupid thing landed right back on my desk. Sometimes I suspect I’m the only one working here. My in-house shrink tells me I’m right, but what does he know? After our last session, all he possesses is a PhD in “getting laid off” with a concentration in “not getting a severance package.”

That’s why I’m turning to you. I’ve seen the mind-searing packet before and here’s my rough estimation of the directions:

*zing* *bling* *bork* *bork* Go to C6 *bork* *bork* *bork*

I’ve also heard older people speak knowingly of dependants and their ilk, which only makes me want to weep sweet, hot tears. Isn’t it independence that makes this country great? That’s what they told me all through elementary school, until I found out that free t-shirts also play an integral role. Now I am faced with a solemn civic duty to report my earnings with candor and speed, to give financially if needed, to try to fit “please don’t audit my ass” into those really small boxes. Wish me luck.