You are a raging sea
I pull myself out everyday
I plea insanity
Cause I can't leave but I can't stay
The long and dreadful two in a half day protest is over.
Boof Brockovich did it again! After a compelling argument in the form of an email, my company deemed my points valid and are now paying for all my mileage at work. I just can’t tell my coworkers.
Oh man, the last 24 hours have been stellar. Lots of loose ends have been tied, shaky plans have been confirmed, and I finally, finally have my tax problem solved.
Let me explain.
So I’m sure everyone has a daily routine of checking the mailbox and all anyone receives is junk, bills, an occasional postcard, and dental reminders. One day you receive a letter titled “(your state here) Dept. of Revenue” on the envelope and your mind starts wandering.
Why would I receive anything from these guys?
Could this just be a reminder for…I don’t know, something?
It’s probably nothing.
You open it up and find,
“YOU HAVE BEEN AUDITED. BASED ON YOUR 2002 TAX RECORDS, YOU OWE US $1100 AND $300 IN INTEREST.” With one of those cocky empty envelopes to which they expect you to casually write a $1400 check for.
How would you react?
Me? I simultaneously shatted, pissed, barfed, then choked on my vomit, and then hiccupped uncontrollably all with that “oh shit” feeling. Then I stubbed my foot on my toolbox.
$1400 for which I didn’t have budgeted, $1400 for which just popped up, $1400 from the Dept. of Revenue! I thought, “How the hell can I get out of this?” I didn’t know what to do. I came home and showed my folks and all I got from them was,
‘You’re an idiot.’ which is not what I needed at the time.
I felt trapped, I didn’t know what to do. Should I get a lawyer? Do I consult with an accountant? Can I take care of this with ‘Boof power’…whatever that is? After all, you don’t fuck with the Dept of Revenue.
It was at that moment when I transformed into Boof Brockovich and discovered that their numbers were severely off and I began looking through my files of past tax records. I actually had everything: the W2’s, copies of the returns, and I actually had the electronically filed return for that year.
I copied everything and typed up a beautiful business-type letter (complete with strong verbs) and filed an appeal. Yesterday I found another letter titled “Minnesota Dept. of Revenue” and held that envelope with a trembling hand. I’ve never felt that way about a letter since my ACT scores came back.
Turns out I was mostly right (because I know I kinda screwed up on my taxes that year) but I only owe $200 as opposed to $1400, so now I’m happy.
And that’s why I occasionally call myself Boof Brockovich…and Boof sometimes.