Sweet Land of Liberty


Every month I get a statement from the IRS reminding me of my monthly payment due to them for taxes I neglected to pay in years previous. I am sure more than a few freelancers out there will understand.

Despite my owing them a few greenbacks, I have nothing but good things to say about the IRS itself, so far (knock on wood). They were exceedingly professional through the process of setting up payment arrangements; their phone agents are not just professional but actually HELPFUL, which sort of freaked me out a little. See, I understand in some circumstances the IRS can be less than kind. So far that hasn’t been my experience, quite possibly because 1) the amount of money involved is infinitesimal in the grand scheme of things, and 2) (perhaps) I’ve been very lucky. (Knocking on some more wood). (Oh, and also, I kept calling them, for months and months and months, actually, saying “really, dudes. I’m broke. I’m workin’ on it.” That seemed to help a lot. I have the sense that if they’d had to come after me, there might have been a federal tire iron involved.)

I have no real objection to paying federal taxes, though I may not be stoked about my hard-earned lettuce going to fund foreign wars, corporate welfare and Haliburton contracts. Whatcha gonna do?

But this month, I laughed so hard I almost peed myself. I received my monthly bill for taxes due in July… Statement date? July 4.

 Of course.


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