…Doesn’t automatically mean you should.
I am a relatively intelligent person. I have degrees. I do numbers. I mean, I’m in accounting, for pete’s sake. I love complex logic puzzles, and I have Sudoku with my morning tea. None of my experience or education, however, has prepared me for what is rapidly becoming the bane of my existence…
Taxes.
Yes, Uncle Sam and his money-grubbing IRS cronies are the cause of my woes. I understand that taxes are necessary, don’t get me wrong. I know that they pay for many important things that the country and its citizens need, though I don’t always agree with how these things are prioritized. Let’s face it, the government has never held out for 100% approval. Nothing would get done. Well, more nothing than already gets done, anyway.
For all my numbers prowess, the tax system is just too complicated for me to keep track of. In fact, an entire industry is built up around the guarantee that the vast majority of Americans are not going to be able to figure it out or are unwilling to try. Those who have one job and a relatively simplified life can sometimes get away with working through it themselves. Good for them. Some with more complex filing can do their own and I wish them the best of success. To the rest of us… Well, good luck.
I mean, does it really need to be so crazy complicated? Just because changing the tax code is the IRS version of fun, do they really have to do it so often? Why can’t we have a simpler tax code? I actually had to take a day off of work to gather the things that we needed to do our taxes. I’ve spent hours poring over medical bills and mileage and expenses. I’ve even started dreaming about it, Heaven help me. I lost sleep over a statement that I didn’t have, only to find out that I didn’t need it. I have a list of things that will be necessary to file, but I have to carefully consider what goes into each category and worry that I might not have gotten everything.
An extension is relatively simple. Unfortunately, it also lulls one into a false sense of “I’ve got time” and then October sneaks up like a ninja in the night. It turns the year into a roller coaster of “I’ve got this this year” to “oh crap, it’s that time and I’m not ready” to “ok, an extension gives me time” to “oh crap, it’s that time and I’m not ready” and then the dread of the inevitable sinks in and facing the music feels a bit like musical chairs and we’re the ones standing when everyone else is sittin’ pretty.
My husband and I are actually pretty lucky. We have a tax lady who is really good at what she does. She makes it look easy when she blasts through our taxes in an hour and we can finally breathe again. She fills in everything so we can see if we’d benefit more from itemizing or if the standard deductions are the way to go. She walks us through what we need to do in subsequent years to make it go more smoothly. Pavlov would be proud… She’s nearly got us trained. It is unfortunate, though, that the training is less about chocolate entering stage right and more about wanting to avoid the stinging sensation of inadequacy. It is also unfortunate that the training is never complete because of the esoteric tax law.
Seriously, IRS, just because you can change the law every 36 seconds doesn’t mean you should. Please, please, please have mercy on the little guys who are just trying to avoid a stupid mistake that will land us in striped pajamas. In my early twenties, I filed and then realized later that I had made a mistake. It came down to who could claim my son, and it was me. I filed an amended tax return. Easy right? Wrong. The IRS selected my amended return for review. I was young and still not overly confident in my tax filing skills as it was. This ‘review’ certainly didn’t help my confidence level.
For the love of all things holy, you would have thought they caught the most hardened criminal ever to set foot on this green Earth. I was cooperative and gave them whatever they asked for. My return was pretty simple at the time and the only change I made was claiming my son. According to how they treated me, I was actually a cold-hearted criminal mastermind who was intent upon collapsing the government (and ultimately the world) by defrauding the IRS of their hard-earned tax money. They might as well have hooked up some hungry leaches for the bloodletting they were about to subject me to. I was literally in tears, multiple times.
What saved me from all this was another branch of the IRS. The black sheep, apparently, because they wanted to help. Yes, I know… help… unbelievable. When I first got on the phone with them, I was nearly hysterical. The lady let me talk (cry) for a while, then started asking questions. After about three questions, my phone battery died. I had no idea how to get back in touch with her and had never given her my number (before caller ID was quite so commonplace). I called back on a land line and got someone else. Without as much of the hysterics (thanks to the other lady who had calmed me down and gotten me away from the edge of the cliff), I explained again what had happened, but only after we exchanged phone numbers and extensions. I think of the lady from the first call as the unwitting therapist. The second was the one who worked through everything with me. Miraculously, whatever she did made them stop hounding me. The amended return went through without another hitch. Months of blood, sweat, and tears over this review and they flipped a proverbial switch and it was fixed. Those Advocates were my life line and they were amazing, even though I haven’t a clue what they did to fix it.
I’ve had other run-ins with the IRS and we’ve lost thousands because we listened to the wrong people. It’s not usually a good sign when your tax person won’t return your call but the IRS is extremely interested in talking with you. Trust me, this scenario does not do good things for the blood pressure. I wish it were simple enough that the system was fair and the common person could do their own taxes without having to resort to standing on their head while juggling sixteen plates on one foot while gargling vodka and whistling the 1812 Overature.
Sure, some of us would end up paying a little more, others a little less, but wouldn’t that be worth not having to hire someone and taking the risks that it involves? Wouldn’t that be better than having to track volumes of changes and codes and rules to figure out if we’re even doing it right to begin with? Isn’t it kind of silly to require another whole division of the IRS to clean up the sopping mess that is left behind when any little thing goes wrong? They spend so much time and energy perstering John and Jane Doe for a few bucks when there are billionaires who don’t pay a cent. Isn’t there something inherently wrong with that?
I’m no tax expert. I admit that freely. I never said I had all the answers. I’m not even sure that the answers I have are anywhere close to correct when it comes to taxes. I just want a fair and simplified tax system. I know I’m not the only one, and I know it’s possible. So just because we can, should we? In this case – for the good of each and every American, absolutely.