Its that time of year again...!
As long-time readers will know, I think tax day should be a national holiday as it already has many of the elements in place. This year residents of hell, who are now wearing long underwear and reminiscing fondly about fire and brimstone, may have guessed that the cause of their drastic climate change is the fact that for the first time in my life, I mailed my taxes a day early. But don't be alarmed, I'm still the extreme procrastinator I've always been, but for some reason the deadline of April 15th or the 1st business day thereafter was extended and the fact was completely unpublicized and I was sure they were due yesterday. I heard this morning that the date has been recently exteded by another two days for residents of the northeastern United States who recently experienced some inclement weather. Is Uncle Sam going soft on us?
I usually like to be part of the late-night crowd that takes advantage of the post office's special hours, so it was a little anti-climactic to just throw my envelopes in the slot. But it was extremely satisfying just to get them done at all! I never imagined the complications that moving to California would add to the process. First of all, California, being the location of the country's finest climate, has a special form for part-year residents that is so arbitrary and freakin' confusing that I really didn't think I'd make it to the end. Federal forms are mostly adding and subtracting ad nauseum with one little multiplication thrown in to keep you awake. Same for PA. Not so California! It is a smorgasbord of mathmatical operations that I was hard pressed to see the reasoning behind. Who made up these tax laws?
Late in the day yesterday, all forms were filled out, photocopies were made, and the last pesky return, the local taxes from the 15 days of 2006 that I spent living in Phoenixville remained my only obstacle. Now, being lazy and a procrastinator, I never corrected the payroll person at school who had neglected to change my address, so as far as the government was concerned, I was still living on Hares Hill Rd. It seemed like so much trouble to exlpain myself to them that I was on the verge of taking my Dad's advice and committing perjury. As I folded the form though, my skin began to burn and my blood pounded in my ears. I have a mortal fear of the law (which is hilarious, because I am such a square). If I were called on this "mistake', there is no way I could say with any conviction that I was not aware of having lived in the city of Philadelphia for 6 months and owing them taxes. So back to Kinko's I went, worked some magic with white-out and the copier, borrowed a calculator from the guy next to me, reported all 3 of my official addresses during the past year, and prorated the taxes owed and withheld. I am getting back $14 instead of $300, but I will not be fined or imprisoned, and that is worth $286 to me!
I usually like to be part of the late-night crowd that takes advantage of the post office's special hours, so it was a little anti-climactic to just throw my envelopes in the slot. But it was extremely satisfying just to get them done at all! I never imagined the complications that moving to California would add to the process. First of all, California, being the location of the country's finest climate, has a special form for part-year residents that is so arbitrary and freakin' confusing that I really didn't think I'd make it to the end. Federal forms are mostly adding and subtracting ad nauseum with one little multiplication thrown in to keep you awake. Same for PA. Not so California! It is a smorgasbord of mathmatical operations that I was hard pressed to see the reasoning behind. Who made up these tax laws?
Late in the day yesterday, all forms were filled out, photocopies were made, and the last pesky return, the local taxes from the 15 days of 2006 that I spent living in Phoenixville remained my only obstacle. Now, being lazy and a procrastinator, I never corrected the payroll person at school who had neglected to change my address, so as far as the government was concerned, I was still living on Hares Hill Rd. It seemed like so much trouble to exlpain myself to them that I was on the verge of taking my Dad's advice and committing perjury. As I folded the form though, my skin began to burn and my blood pounded in my ears. I have a mortal fear of the law (which is hilarious, because I am such a square). If I were called on this "mistake', there is no way I could say with any conviction that I was not aware of having lived in the city of Philadelphia for 6 months and owing them taxes. So back to Kinko's I went, worked some magic with white-out and the copier, borrowed a calculator from the guy next to me, reported all 3 of my official addresses during the past year, and prorated the taxes owed and withheld. I am getting back $14 instead of $300, but I will not be fined or imprisoned, and that is worth $286 to me!
posted by Eiren at 3:13 PM
1 Comments:
For two successive years, we had to file in three states, one of which was CA in each combo (CT, RI & CA, MA, RI & CA). It was not fun. The second such year, we went to an accountant in Boston, who humiliated us for our haphazard record-keeping and shabby receptacles for the keeping itself, and now we will never live in more than two states per year again. Congrats on filing yet again, and early! "Cousin" Mary
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