Thursday, February 02, 2006

Tax you very much

today's the day I unload 12 months worth of crumpled receipts and credit card statements on my CPA. She's a great lady. Not an ounce of humor anywhere in there. I've only met her once, and I'd prefer to remember her simply as a voice on the phone that asks questions about the intricate details of my financial life. And I'd prefer her to know me only as a collection of very very mundane details. Surely, as a worldly, well-paid New Yorker, she rolls her eyes when I tell her I spent something like $65 on unreimbursed business meals. But what the fuck? I live in Harrisburg, PA. I would have to TRY to spend more than $6 on lunch. At one of three restaurants: the mexican restaurant, the olive garden and the sandwich shop run by the lady with that thing on her eyelid. I lead one of the least exciting lives, financially, possible without taking a vow. Of course that won't keep the IRS from taking enough of it to put my son through a year of college.

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