I waited till the last possible day, last possible minute to do my taxes. I always owe, so what the heck. I also have a husband who SWEARS he's gonna help and then doesn't ... who promises to get everything filed and put away in the cabinet and then doesn't ... who intends to to keep your checkbook up to date ... and then doesn't.
Why, you ask?
NCIS Miami, LA, Cleveland, Dallas, Baltimore ....
Law & Order - SVU
Thank God, Castle went off the air.
So, that said, nada got done. I just had a four day weekend so I just spent four days (FOUR DAYS!) sitting on the floor sorting, filing, tossing, reminiscing, trying to reminisce and then hunting for a calculator to add everything up. Our medical bills alone would kill ya. But it got done, all while my husband watched ... and promised it would never happen again. Yeah, yeah.
On my lunch "hour" yesterday, I set out to Jackson Hewitt to now do my taxes. I'd done my part, now it was the professional's time to do their part.
30 minutes turned into an hour. An hour turned into an hour and a half. Then two hours. Then two and a half. TWO and a HALF HOURS to meet with ol' Jackson Hewitt. Jack, by the way, was close to 150 years old. True story. And he didn't want to be there. And he let me know that he didn't want to be there. He also let me know that this was the hardest case he'd ever worked on.
I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say that 150 year old Jack GOT US A REFUND! The day became glorious at the 2 1/2 hour mark.
I floated back into work.
And then ... I learned this:
*** to be continued ***
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