I took all my documents and numbers to my tax preparer yesterday and sat across the desk from him for more than an hour and a half. Some of the time was taken up by chit-chat — he had covid last year, but has recovered. The company had installed a plastic shield across his desk, with a slot for papers to be passed through, but my preparer took them from me from around the edge of the shield.
While he entered numbers into my file, I played videogames on my phone: Sudoku, Solitaire. I wondered why I was there, then realized it was to answer questions — like why there was no 1099 from one company, but a 1099 from a company he’d never seen before (one replaced the other).
It was also to be told that I was missing some numbers. How much was my first stimulus payment? Had I paid the long-term care insurance premium, and how much? How much did I pay in premiums for my medigap insurance? Had I paid any estimated tax last year?
Once I got home, I had homework: to supply those missing numbers. Today, that is done. Next, I’ll learn how much I have to pay (because I didn’t pay estimated taxes last year; the tax preparer who’d done my taxes last year, when my usual guy was out sick with covid, hadn’t sent me any of the necessary forms). As Daniel Defoe wrote in 1726: “in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”
I’m participating in the 14th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day 10 of the 31-day challenge. It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about. Join in!