The Day from Hell

I hate to complain but.. well, I am.

Today started with a visit by an IRS employee who came to explain a tax problem and then assured me that "if you don't work with us, I will be your worst enemy. I'll take your car, your house, and whatever other assets we can find" (the kinder, gentler IRS). My last day of three weeks in ICU the summer before last, I got a notice from the IRS that I owed $9,000 extra in taxes for a year where I paid more in income tax than I have made in total any year since. Silly me, but I keep asking them to explain why I owe this money. It's never been explained. Still hasn't been.

I'd almost happily pay them just to go away, but I made about $20K/yr the last two years (one of the companies I do work for went bellyup leaving me with a lot of unpaid work plus the medical problems haven't left me gushing in money). Just medical expenses alone run me about $1,000 per month now so... oh, it's just a little tough to figure out how I cut a check for $9K.

So, silly me, I thought we could work out some plan since any year we're talking about, I pay more in income tax than many of America's top corporations. But no. So the IRS has graciously given me three whole weeks to do the impossible or, like Uncle Vinnie and Cousin Rocco, they take away my breathing privileges. This is a hoot!

So I go from the IRS man telling me the "worst nightmare" line to a mammogram where everything that could go wrong did. From there, I go to pick up a urinalysis kit, expecting that cut little jar. Nope. I walked out with a huge bag of big containers into which I must pee for the next few days. Let's see... yeah, that'll be great for my self esteem. Perhaps the IRS will take pee, y'think?

Then there was the lovely lady who managed to drop a large can of baked beans on my head at the grocery store as I bent down to get garbanzo beans while one of those people who like to use those motorized carts managed to knock into me from behind in one aisle and nipped my little toe in another. I did notice he was able to navigate fine off the motorized cart when he was getting a case of beer.

Unfortunately, that was the good part of the day.

And now Randall Terry (Operation Rescue) is screaming on MSNBC and managed not to let anyone else speak.

Would someone be nice enough to pull my feeding tube? I'm tired and I want to go. ::grin::