Protaxination

There's nothing funny about taxes, really. They are, in fact, the epitome of boredom and obligation. They require close attention to detail, accuracy and the ability to follow directions exactly. Therefore it takes me until about April 10th, maybe the 13th before I send mine in. Until then I have the pile of booklets, W2's and rent slips in an ominous pile on my desk, just waiting to be processed and incur a level five migraine. On some subconscious plane, I am certain that those papers on my desk effects my mood, weighing down on my spirits. Probably not unlike Abraham after he was given his commandment from God*. You know he meant to get it done in a timely fashion, but it's such a pain in the ass to drag a kid all the way up Mount Moriah to sacrifice him. Plus the field wasn't plowed yet, and it's a bitch to get the mule to stand still while you harness him with only one person.

So like Abraham, I have taken my time with taxes this year. And while I am not 'technically' sacrificing my child only because an ominous voice told me to, it sure feels like it. Maybe, if I'm lucky, right before I am about to send in the check, and IRS angel (agent) will stop me, and say "No, my son, this was merely a test of your will and devotion towards the state and federal laws. Hold on to that cash, because someone in your income bracket will just end up seeing that money back in governmental support programs anyway". Or something like that at least.

So maybe I'll get started on them tonight, maybe not. I try not to hog-tie myself with commitments like that, just so I can keep my options open. Maybe there is something really cool going on that I won't hear about until later tonight, something I've never even heard of before. Or maybe the government will say 'Ok, we've got enough money this year, thanks, the rest of you don't have to pay." Just as long as my dad doesn't call and ask if I want to go for a hike with him.


Abraham and Isaac