Today is Tax Day. Thanks to the quirks of the calendar and the holiday schedule in Washington, D.C., the deadline has been extended to Tuesday. And I'm grateful.
I don't owe anything to the feds or state this year. In fact, I'll be getting by largest tax refunds ever. That's pretty cool. Especially with the long list of "high-priority" items needed in my life. A new iPod. Patio furniture. Dues to my denomination's district. Ya know. The biggies.
This weekend I went into panic mode. I couldn't find my W2s. Or my forms from the last few years. Or the forms for this year. Ugh! So, first I went and bought software to do my taxes this year. Then I dug through my room. I found the W2s. Cool. Then I found a folder marked "2005 Taxes." Awesome. Oops. Files are missing. I hunted some more. Found old taxes. From the 1990s. Eventually, I did find all the "missing" elements that I needed.
Here's the funniest-yet-most-pathetic part of the whole story. I don't throw things away. It's a disease, an illness, an ailment. I keep stuff. And by "stuff" I mean all my federal and state forms going back to 1992. The first year I filed on my own. While in college. Yes folks, I have my complete history of tax filings still in my possession.
Rob has issues.