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Tax Master, Maybe Not March 16, 2009

Posted by Julie Momster in Uncategorized.
Tags: , ,

Tax-time. Ohhhhh, how I loathe tax-time. Especially these past couple of years.

Last year, we found (what we thought was) a great local tax place. And where all of our refund was applied to child support for Izzy, it was obviously not a reflection on their accounting skills. Okay, not a bad reason for no monies, but it still sucked.

Now, apparently, this year they’re trying to tell us that if we didn’t have $600 left from our stimulus last year, that we would be OWING money?! WTF?! Sure, we may have gone up a tax bracket, but only by, like, 5%. Are you shitting me, Associated Tax?! They have had no reason to explain why, either.

Methinks something here has gone awry. Unnecessarily, no less.

We haven’t filed any differently than before, except I believe that one of my W-2s claims “1” instead of “0”. Big freakin’ deal? – I think not.

But, for FUCK’S SAKE, it’s just so frustrating! This tax money was intended to go to the car we so desperately need, and so, of course, something would go wrong. Whenever it comes to finances, something always ALWAYS goes wrong – I’m just sick of it. That is the reason we’ve gone without a car for so long. Nothing ends up working out. And taxes are just such a GIVEN – there should be absolutely nothing holding them up. All of the back child support was taken care of months ago, I just can’t imagine anything else.

Mikey and I plan on bombarding the tax place, ninja-style, in order to commandeer our tax information, so we can take it home, and rape some Turbo Tax. I say, screw you, inefficient accountant that I had hoped would help us but is in fact ruining our lives – I shall render you OBSOLETE! Muahahahaha…

Although, with my luck, Turbo Tax will say I owe even MORE monies.



In other news, My daddy’s in town!

Him and my step-mom Jen came in Saturday night, and are staying till Tuesday morning.

Best thing ever? FINALLY getting some World Famous Colbeck Pizza that I would probably sell my soul for. My dad is the creator of A#1 best pizza known to man, for reasons I don’t fully understand. but with food this good, who really cares?! I’ll just spend the next 3 weeks devouring the supplies he left in my kitchen.

And, super bonus, I also conned him into getting us a stroller for Avi-Butt. Although it wasn’t much of a con – he asked what we needed, I said stroller, BOOM! we’re at Target. Which is great, because we’ve hit 70 degrees here today, and I fully intend on making use of said stroller. Fresh air for baby, some vague form of exercise for me. Boo-ya. Take THAT, post-partum Muffin-Top!



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