Taxed
Tax time is always a special time of year.
Each year I say to myself that this is absolutely the last year I do my taxes myself, and that next year I'll hire a CPA. And then each year, the stuff I thought was so hard the year before really isn't so bad, but the new quirks that each year brings have me pulling my hair out again by the end of it.
Sometimes I long for the days of the 1040EZ form.
At least I now have my "Form 2350 Application for Extension of Time To File U.S. Income Tax Return For U.S. Citizens and Resident Aliens Abroad Who Expect To Qualify for Special Tax Treatment" submitted to the US government, a good enough feeling that I'll be getting a refund that I didn't send any money with it (at worst, I'll owe a little along with a small amount of penalties on it, but it's doubtful, and it seemed silly to send some "safety money" along with the extension when I didn't know for sure yet), and a pretty decent jump on my Canadian taxes. At least those are fairly easy so far, except that they want to know about any US income I've made between Oct 24 and Dec 31, and that's the hard part on the others.
Another thing I find myself saying every year is, "Next year, I'm going to keep up with this stuff all year long so that at tax time it'll be easy." Yeah.
Enough about that.
* * *
My dreams are back. Since I'd moved, my dreams haven't been quite as wacky as in the past, which is kind of sad, because it means the dreams section of my website has suffered a bit. I have a good one which, once I've recuperated from sitting on this stool doing tax work all morning and early afternoon, I'll make a point to write down.
* * *
I've taken to emailing myself thoughts from work, sometimes dreams, sometimes random other things, and by the time I have a chance to look at the email, I'm not entirely sure what I was so excited about in the first place. My most recent email contained the following:
Each year I say to myself that this is absolutely the last year I do my taxes myself, and that next year I'll hire a CPA. And then each year, the stuff I thought was so hard the year before really isn't so bad, but the new quirks that each year brings have me pulling my hair out again by the end of it.
Sometimes I long for the days of the 1040EZ form.
At least I now have my "Form 2350 Application for Extension of Time To File U.S. Income Tax Return For U.S. Citizens and Resident Aliens Abroad Who Expect To Qualify for Special Tax Treatment" submitted to the US government, a good enough feeling that I'll be getting a refund that I didn't send any money with it (at worst, I'll owe a little along with a small amount of penalties on it, but it's doubtful, and it seemed silly to send some "safety money" along with the extension when I didn't know for sure yet), and a pretty decent jump on my Canadian taxes. At least those are fairly easy so far, except that they want to know about any US income I've made between Oct 24 and Dec 31, and that's the hard part on the others.
Another thing I find myself saying every year is, "Next year, I'm going to keep up with this stuff all year long so that at tax time it'll be easy." Yeah.
Enough about that.
* * *
My dreams are back. Since I'd moved, my dreams haven't been quite as wacky as in the past, which is kind of sad, because it means the dreams section of my website has suffered a bit. I have a good one which, once I've recuperated from sitting on this stool doing tax work all morning and early afternoon, I'll make a point to write down.
* * *
I've taken to emailing myself thoughts from work, sometimes dreams, sometimes random other things, and by the time I have a chance to look at the email, I'm not entirely sure what I was so excited about in the first place. My most recent email contained the following:
Canadian things:Presumably I'd intended to start a list of Canadian-only (or nearly) candy, of which Bridge Mix is a constituent in the "nearly" category (my mother swears they had it in Memphis when she was a little kid), and to supplement my list of odd Canadian slang with "hooped", which when used in the passive voice, is kind of like "screwed", "up a creek without a paddle", and so on. I'm not sure what kinds of hoops people get into. While eating peanuts, jellybeans, and marshmallows covered in waxy chocolate, no less.
Bridge Mix Hooped