Inane backflips
The date may change, but the stress level remains the same. This is tax season; even though every cent (or nickel, now that the penny has been officially made “non-status”) passes through the hands of the government before I touch it, the level of inane backflips varies not one iota. I use software, and I do my best to learn from past experience.
However, that’s an impossible task with taxation. The reporting requirements change, every single time. Only my name remains the same, along with the paired SIN (and yes, the system is a pathway to sin!). I changed address since a year ago, and crossed one of those invisible but oh-so-important barriers called a provincial line. Like it or not, the rules change. While my deductions disappeared, effortlessly, the reclaiming of my just due is much harder. I summed my amounts; now I’ll wait for the “letters with attitude” to start arriving. Oh, and I’ll pay my debt to society, unlike so many other scofflaws.
Rant mode off… as soon as I mention the other sticky spot. My son is filing for the first time (another long tale of woe). They owe him money, but he lacks the right to file electronically. He must find a postage stamp on Monday, and mail things off. His form count is incorrect, so there’ll be other “letters with attitude”. There. Rant mode off, for real.
Did you notice how things are starting to turn green outside? Such a feeling of hope in the air. Even the squirrels are endowed with an “in your face” way of robbing the feeder.
