||[Mar. 27th, 2004|07:58 pm]
We did our taxes last weekend. We owed some money, but not a tragic amount, and everything has been filed and taken care of.
I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am about this.
Generally I am one of those people who is scrambling on April 14, sweaty-palmed and shaking in terror that I will miss the deadline. There is absolutely no reason for this; we aren't waiting for a windfall or searching the couch cushions for change. I'm just really bad about getting them done on time. I'm not generally a procratinator about other things. Taxes are just a bubaboo of bad behavior. This year, though, and at the loving and sexy Ferrett's insistence, we got them done instead of stewing about them.
The effect is fascinating. When I see the Yahoo! ads for tax help or get spam offering extra savings or have to close a tax-related pop-up window, I feel exactly the same satisfaction that I experience during NPR Pledge Week when I have already made my donation. A warm glow suffuses me and I smile, feeling that I am one of the blessed, the fortunate.
I am part of the in-crowd.
Now, you needn't tell me how utterly stupid this is. Intellectually, I know. Continual begging still disrupts my Morning Edition, and completing my taxes early didn't win me a special prize or even a discount. Even as that satisfied grin lights up my face, part of me is thinking, "Wow, this is dumb."
But, hey, I will take my little happinesses wherever I can get them.