The Taxman cometh
So last year we made a little more money than in previous years. Which seems like a great thing, right? Now we can finish the chicken room into an office and I can stop having to write on the kitchen table (the only place to eat in our house).
Except that the taxman is going to take all of the money we had budgeted for said chicken room. I knew we were making more money last year and thought I had sent enough in estimated payments to cover the difference. But since math is not what I do well. And, really, all I did was say to myself, "Oh, I think I'll send in a little more money this time. This should be plenty." Rather than try to find out exactly how much I should send in, like, if there's a formula or something, which apparently there is. So, now we have to pay, and I have to keep writing on the kitchen table, carting my work life around in a red plastic basket that threatens to break and spill out all of my work everytime I pick it up.
And I can forget updating the hall bath. It was the first thing we did in our house thirteen years ago when we bought. It was disgusting and dirt and dark brown. And I found this very cool Elvis shower curtain--a life-sized picture of Elvis is full hip swivel. Elvis inspired the whole decor. The walls are painted black and white stripes and covered with Elvis photos and memorabilia. The only rule was Elvis had to stay in the bathroom. You know how people get when they think you collect something--you end up with Elvis creeping out into the living space. We decided early on that this house wasn't big enough for Chris, me and Elvis.
We've all been happy with him living in the bathroom for all these years. But the shower curtain has holes and the white stripes on the walls have yellowed and the vanity needs to be replaced.
But it all has to wait. Because if we don't pay the taxman, we'll be singing our own version of Jailhouse Rock. Nobody wants to hear that!
Except that the taxman is going to take all of the money we had budgeted for said chicken room. I knew we were making more money last year and thought I had sent enough in estimated payments to cover the difference. But since math is not what I do well. And, really, all I did was say to myself, "Oh, I think I'll send in a little more money this time. This should be plenty." Rather than try to find out exactly how much I should send in, like, if there's a formula or something, which apparently there is. So, now we have to pay, and I have to keep writing on the kitchen table, carting my work life around in a red plastic basket that threatens to break and spill out all of my work everytime I pick it up.
And I can forget updating the hall bath. It was the first thing we did in our house thirteen years ago when we bought. It was disgusting and dirt and dark brown. And I found this very cool Elvis shower curtain--a life-sized picture of Elvis is full hip swivel. Elvis inspired the whole decor. The walls are painted black and white stripes and covered with Elvis photos and memorabilia. The only rule was Elvis had to stay in the bathroom. You know how people get when they think you collect something--you end up with Elvis creeping out into the living space. We decided early on that this house wasn't big enough for Chris, me and Elvis.
We've all been happy with him living in the bathroom for all these years. But the shower curtain has holes and the white stripes on the walls have yellowed and the vanity needs to be replaced.
But it all has to wait. Because if we don't pay the taxman, we'll be singing our own version of Jailhouse Rock. Nobody wants to hear that!
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