Oh, taxes. What would April around our house be without you? Beautiful? Glorious? Curse-word free? A musical, syrupy sweet scene from Enchanted? Probably. Our accountant gave us our final tax forms today, complete with little "sign here" stickies. I love those. I love thunking a massive messy pile of papers and receipts and spreadsheets and forms to someone in an office with shiny desks and real plants and then getting back a smaller pile of papers with "sign here" tags on them. It's just so easy. Who has time to flip through 17 pages and find the places to sign? Give me bright red tags, people. I am paying you, after all. (I relate this fully realizing how pretentious accountant sounds. Let me clarify; we do not have enough money to need, or afford, an actual retained accountant. But, we did need to get our taxes done and the CPA in my office building complex happens to do normal peoples' taxes for cheaper than H&R Block. Of course, we probably could've gotten them done in the strip mall near Target where the little man/woman in an Uncle Sam outfit and beard dances around with a sign advertising something like Crazy Eddie's Low-Cost House of Tax Service. But, oh, I dunno-- people in costumes on street corners just never really sway me to stop. Call me old fashioned... I prefer coupons.)
Receptionist: Welcome to Crazy Eddie's House of Tax.
Me: Uh, yes. I'd like to get my taxes done.
Receptionist: Take a seat over there by the ficus.
Me: I have a coupon for buy-State get 20% off Federal.
Receptionist: Great, that'll be $199.95.
Me: Good deal. Does that come with "sign-here" tags?
Receptionist: No. Those are extra.
Me: Bah! Should've gone to my accountant!
Receptionist: Well look at you, miss fancypants. Get out!
Me: I'm sorry! It sounds so pretentious. But I'm not, though. See? I have a coupon! A coupon!
Receptionist: That's it. Next year we're switching to dancing corner people in costume.
Anyway. The taxes are done. It's painful what having exactly zero homes and zero children can do to a well-meaning double-income family of a dog and her two humans.
On a happier note, (thus, food-related as is the current trend) we went to an Indian place for dinner tonight and I fell madly in love all over again with Butter Chicken, Tikka Masala and naan. I ordered my dinner a "7" on the 1-10 spicy scale and it was perfect. And I'm almost positive I could eat garlic/butter/plain naan every day. I want to sleep on a bed of it... It's so soft and chewy and delicious. Mmmm... naan. I don't eat Indian food enough. Every time I eat it I think this to myself and wonder why I don't go out to Indian cuisine more often.
Must be because I don't have a coupon.
8 comments:
Love naan too girl. Is it better than Baluchis?
There you go tnd, bringing up Baluchi's to those of us that don't live there anymore.
Is it better than Bombay House?
I loved where my mind went when I read "I want to sleep in a bed made of it". A naan bed. Could I have a naan blanket too?
My take on taxes: If the government didn't take all that money out of our checks and we had to come up with it at the end of the year so we could really see how much they are taking--we would all be republicians.
Thought of you as we wrapped up our taxes by signing on the signature line, marked by a sticky tag. :) You are right, so easy!
the first year we were married we had a legitimate accountant who sent us our taxes with all those heavenly stickies. h&r block the next year was a total disappointment.
and i've been craving indian food (and eating it) almost constantly. have you eve made naan? i've got it on my list of things to try in the next few months. . .
Sounds like I have got to try naan, everyone seems to be raving about it! You will have to show us where this great Indian rest is, next time we are in town.
I hear ya on the taxes. We just got our info in to our tax man. I am sure glad he is doing them. I did them last year and let's just say...I hope we don't get audited anytime soon!
Madison has quite the selection of Indian cuisine, including a buffet located dangerously close to my home. Come visit!
Post a Comment